Satisfaction
by M-Maltesers
Summary: Fuji Yuuta thought he had enough worries with Mizuki and with Syuusuke, yet the minute Atobe announces himself in his life, Yuuta finds that as with everything else Atobe does, he manages to top Yuuta's problems too. AtoYuu. Sequel: 'About Us'.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: I love this pairing so much, though it makes not the slightest bit of sense.

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 1

By Miki

There was a certain satisfaction that came from being Atobe Keigo.

It was something of an intrinsic feeling, in that the feeling in itself meant little to him – considering the fact that he'd been Atobe Keigo ever since the moment he was born – however, there was the satisfaction that came from knowing – and showing – his clear superiority to those around him.

Of course, Atobe reflected, this was why he was feeling somewhat displeased with the situation in which he currently found himself.

Seigaku's Fuji Syuusuke was smiling at him.

And that was exactly the problem.

"Hello Atobe."

"Fuji," Atobe returned, hoping to walk straight past the boy.

He hadn't anticipated bumping into anyone he knew here. It wasn't that it was a problem of appearances (he'd just had his manicure done and his hair freshly cut and ore-sama was always aesthetically pleasing to the eye of the mere commoner), it was more that he hadn't exactly wanted to start his day with Fuji Syuusuke of all people.

"Kabaji, we don't want to eat here with such commoners, do we?" Atobe said, sniffing disdainfully as he turned on his heel.

You'd have been mistaken to think that an entire café would be big enough for Fuji, Atobe and his ego.

Kabaji merely nodded and turned to follow Atobe from the café, when Fuji spoke.

"Saa, Atobe. You're not letting me spoil your meal, are you? Perhaps you could have it take-away in a box? I'm sure the plastic would suit the décor of your mansion."

Atobe pursed his lips and turned around. "Kabaji."

"Usu."

"The usual."

"Usu," Kabaji replied and positioned himself at Atobe's right as the boy sat up on a barstool next to Fuji, who kept on smiling.

Kabaji ordered two plates of strawberry waffles and two lattes, and took his own seat as Atobe placed his arms on the counter in front of himself and linked his fingers together.

"All by yourself, Fuji?" he questioned smugly, considering his options.

Bumping into Fuji wasn't part of his schedule for the day, though if he played his cards well, he could have a bit of fun before he returned home to have a dip in the pool before lunch. Though with Fuji, he mused, you never quite knew what he was thinking.

Fuji was slow in responding, and Atobe fancied he saw a hint of amusement on his face.

"Not at all, Atobe," he finally said, voice calm and low in the noisy café. "You didn't notice my date?"

Atobe tried not to look as though he actually cared one bit about Fuji Syuusuke's date as he tried to subtly peer past him. The bar stools were in a straight line, so it took a little more craning of the neck than he'd have liked. He made a note to himself to get a quick massage in before hitting the pool, and then blinked a little as he recognised the boy who was with Fuji.

"You remember my brother, Yuuta, right?" Fuji continued, turning to his brother for a moment. "Yuuta, you remember Atobe, don't you? Premature greys and all?"

Atobe frowned. There Fuji was doing it again. He snorted. "What are you talking about? This is my natural hair colour, and much less common than yours, I might add."

Fuji smiled. "Of course it's natural. Everyone knows greying past the age of 50 is completely normal."

Atobe screwed up his face in an attempt to hold his tongue.

When you hadn't anything witty to say, it was better to hold your tongue against Fuji after all.

They fell into an un-amicable silence for a few moments, and then when Fuji spoke again, it wasn't to Atobe but to his brother, or his 'date' as he put it.

Atobe – who wasn't eavesdropping at all because he cared nothing for Fuji's conversations – didn't hear a response, and couldn't help but subtly glance Fuji's way for a moment.

Fuji's brother had his nose stuck in a book, and was apparently trying to ignore his brother since he was covering up his eyes with a hand and not doing anything much in the way of reading. "Aniki," he groaned as Atobe watched. "I already said no!"

"Yuuta, I've been looking forward to this," Fuji cajoled, placing one hand on Yuuta's shoulder and rubbing. "Wouldn't you like to? You always liked doing it with me when you were little…"

Yuuta grimaced and banged his book down on the counter, staring pointedly at his brother. "I said, not today, Aniki. I'm meeting Mizuki today, and I don't have time."

The smile disappeared from Fuji's face for a moment as he took in Yuuta's words.

"And what exactly are you doing with Mizuki, Yuuta?"

Then, before his brother could even answer, he frowned. "I'll come to supervise."

Yuuta's mouth dropped open. "You what? Aniki! You can't!" he protested fruitlessly.

"Don't worry, Yuuta. I won't do anything terrible…" Fuuji smiled. "I'll just make sure he doesn't touch a hair on your head, or I'll find a way to dispose of him."

"Dispose?" Yuuta repeated weakly.

"Well, it wouldn't do to have Mizuki thinking he can actually repeat this sort of thing with you," Fuji mused, opening his eyes to look Yuuta straight in the eyes. "You're only allowed to date me, Yuuta. You wouldn't cheat on me with Mizuki, would you?"

Yuuta's cheeks turned a bright pink as he gripped his book tightly in one hand. "Baka, Aniki!"

To which Fuji only continued to smile.

Atobe looked away, frowning.

He'd met Yuuta before. Of course he hadn't taken any notice of him, but to say that he was rather bothered by the relationship he seemed to have with Fuji would be an understatement.

The thought persisted in his head until at last; he gave up eating his waffles and led the way out of the café as Kabaji took care of the account.

(S)

"Atobe."

…

"Atobe," Shishido repeated, stopping short of glaring at his captain.

Atobe frowned. "What?"

"Er… Jirou won 6-4," Shishido informed him, watching Atobe's eyes dart towards the court.

"Mm," Atobe answered, getting up from his chair and putting aside his almost untouched-drink.

One of his butlers placed his jacket on his shoulders, and Atobe disappeared back inside a moment later, having no need to watch the remainder of the afternoon practise apparently.

Choutarou and Shishido watched his retreating back for a moment, then gave each other shrugs and turned back to watching the other practise games going on.

(S)

It bothered Atobe.

Fuji never paid him any attention.

Yet that nothing-special brother of his was treated as though he were the centre of Fuji's every thought. Fuji doted on him to the point that Atobe considered it vile and offensive that Fuji clearly had bad taste.

Atobe personally couldn't understand relations between siblings terribly well. He himself had no siblings – obviously after seeing his own brilliance, how could his parents ever have considered producing another, inferior child?

But he passed off sibling affection as being yet another time-waster in life. There were people for whom investment was rewarded, and there were others who weren't worth giving the time of day.

As far as he was concerned, Fuji Yuuta fell into the latter category.

(S)

However, two days later, when Atobe was still feeling bothered about Fuji, he decided to pay him a visit.

Fuji would _make time_ for him; Atobe would ensure. Besides, there was no one else more important than ore-sama, and Atobe was determined to prove it.

.tbc.


	2. Chapter 2

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Nice, appreciated but not obligatory.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 2

By Miki

"Yuuta," Fuji smiled as he opened the front door. 

Upon seeing Atobe, he promptly shut the door again.

Atobe didn't even register a blink. He merely stared at the closed door for a moment before smirking and raising his hand to press at the doorbell again, figuring Fuji Syuusuke didn't know a blessing when he saw it.

(S)

"Syuusuke?" Yumiko called out as she licked some icing off her fingers. "Is there someone at the door?"

Fuji poked his head around the corner of the kitchen and smiled. "Not at all, Nee-san. It's just the wind."

Yumiko raised an eyebrow and peered out the window at the perfect blue sky.

The doorbell rang again.

"Syuusuke," she smiled. "You wouldn't be able to pop down to the shop for me, would you? I've just run out of icing sugar."

Fuji gave a nod and went out via the back door.

(S)

Twenty two minutes later, when he returned, he opened the front door to see Atobe sitting rather comfortably on the sofa. His legs were crossed, his back straight, and his hair annoyingly grey as usual.

The room smelled faintly of Chanel.

Fuji frowned, turning his gaze towards his sister enquiringly.

"Nee-san? The point of keeping the front door closed was to keep the rubbish from blowing into the house, you know."

Yumiko smiled and said nothing.

Atobe twitched.

And then they heard the faint click of the door as someone opened it again.

"Yuuta," Fuji smiled as he went the door once more.

"Aniki," Yuuta said by way of greeting. He sighed, shuffling past his brother, his tennis bag over one shoulder and his duffel bag over the other.

"How was your trip?" Fuji asked, straightening Yuuta's shoes as he dropped them by the door.

"Fine," Yuuta replied shortly.

He was keen to escape to his room before his brother became overly affectionate, past experience having told him that Fuji usually interpreted any delay in slinking off to his room as an excuse to clasp him rather tightly and proclaim embarrassing things in a very loud voice.

But when he walked past the living room, he stopped suddenly, brow creased in confusion as he dropped his duffel bag to the floor.

"Aniki."

Atobe twitched again, and turned his head to frown at the new arrival. Fuji's younger brother, again.

Atobe couldn't help but notice his apparent disregard for appearance. His jersey was crinkled and crooked, his hair looked a mess and apparently colour coordination was too much for him since he hadn't even bothered to match his pants to his top.

Atobe felt thoroughly irked.

"Actually, I'm not your Aniki," he replied curtly, rather abhorred by the lack of manners in the Fuji household. "In case you've been living under a rock or in any other state of near-deprivation, you ought to recognise me…" He trailed off, waiting for a sound of recognition.

There was silence, and he continued on, feeling his irritation growing by the nanosecond. "My name is Ato-"

He stopped, shocked.

Yuuta was already halfway up the stairs.

Yumiko hid her smile behind her teacup, but her eyes twinkled as she looked at Fuji.

Perhaps she should let him have some fun after all.

"Syuusuke," she said suddenly, standing up. "I've just realised I forgot something else for tonight's meal." She smiled apologetically at Atobe and placed her teacup back on the tray. "I think I'll just go down to the supermarket, so why don't you and Yuuta look after our guest while I'm gone?"

Fuji smiled. "See you when you come back, Nee-san," he replied, refusing to acknowledge Atobe's presence in their conversation.

Yumiko smiled back.

"If you don't mind, perhaps you could take out the trash when you leave. It's starting to make the house smell."

(S)

Atobe drummed his fingers on his desktop in dissatisfaction.

Despite appearances, Fuji's elder sister didn't appear to be any better than him, since she'd promptly put him out of the house, telling him that he could come again any time so long as no one was home to answer the doorbell.

The humiliation he'd felt as she'd kicked him out was almost enough to make him want to kick down the door and demand that Fuji Syuusuke come back at once and apologise.

But kicking down the door would surely be detrimental to his own welfare somehow, so he hadn't. Public displays of anger weren't for Atobe Keigo at any rate.

Anyway, if he changed his mind, he would call Kabaji.

(S)

"Kabaji."

"Usu."

"Ore-sama would appreciate your input into this strategic plan."

Atobe unfolded a piece of paper he'd been writing on throughout the day.

Kabaji looked.

It looked like a drawing of lines and circles placed strategically on the page. He supposed they could have been people, although he was sure that if Atobe had meant to draw people, he'd have drawn people, not piles of sticks with circles on top.

He wasn't sure what Atobe expected him to say. It was rare that Atobe asked him for anything requiring an actual opinion, and even less rare that he wanted Kabaji's own opinion, as opposed to an agreement with his own. So he stayed silent for the moment, trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at.

Atobe huffed a little and crossed his arms when no answer was forthcoming after a few minutes. He sat back in his chair, perfectly still.

Luckily for them both, Shishido walked into the room at that moment, and Atobe called him over, uncrossing his arms and tapping his finger irritably on his plan.

"Shishido."

"Yes, Atobe?"

"Ore-sama would like your opinion on this particular strategic plan I've been working on."

Shishido looked at the piece of paper, his face blank.

"Is this… by any chance… related to tennis at all?"

Atobe frowned. "It is related to me, and I am an integral part of your tennis life, am I not, Shishido?"

Shishido gave Atobe a look.

(S)

"Choutarou," Shishido stated blankly over lunch. "Atobe won't leave me alone."

Choutarou looked up, concern on his face. "Atobe?"

Shishido rolled his eyes. "Apparently he has it in for Fuji Syuusuke and he wants ideas on how to take him out."

Choutarou blinked.

(S)

By the time afternoon practise arrived the following Friday, the first-years were surreptitiously avoiding looking Atobe in the eyes (rumours tended to snowball when passed on by bored school boys with too much imagination after all) and Atobe for one, was glad. All this thinking had him losing sleep.

Panda eyes were not becoming on Ore-sama.

Something had to be done.

(S)

Jirou's advice wasn't the greatest, but it was all Atobe could go on. This wasn't a normal problem after all, since Fuji wasn't a normal person, and Atobe had never really had problems of this sort with this sort of person before.

After simplifying things down so that Ore-sama was a theoretical figure and his problem was a hypothetical one – Fuji was the annoyingly common, brown-haired mouse and Yuuta was his favourite block of cheese – Jirou had blinked and yawned and given Atobe the strangest of looks.

"What sort of cheese?"

Atobe frowned a little, impatient. "Does it matter?" he snapped.

Jirou paused.

"Well, if you want the annoyingly common brown-haired mouse to pay you attention, wouldn't you steal his cheese?"

Atobe stared.

"I mean, Atobe," Jirou yawned, "why would you want a brown-haired mouse anyway? If you really want one, I'm sure I can find one at home you know… The maids keep putting out traps to catch them, but you know, I'm pretty sure I saw one in the bathroom. I think maybe they're left over from the time I mouse-sat for that kid down the street and somehow the mice all got out of the cage when I left the lid off…"

Atobe didn't respond, lost in thought.

"But you know, it really depends on what sort of cheese it is… Mice usually like cheddar, though I fed the mice some Brie and they didn't mind… I always thought you'd like Camembert more though…" Jirou was mumbling, drooping against Atobe as he began to lose interest in talking to himself.

Atobe wasn't sure he liked Jirou's solution. If Jirou thought that stealing the annoyingly common, brown-haired mouse's cheese was the best solution to the problem, that meant…

Atobe frowned, hm-ing to himself as he thought things through.

How did one go about stealing cheese?

He supposed Yuuta could be equated with a common supermarket-bought cheddar. Fuji was perhaps a matured cheddar, but that was hardly any better. In any case, Atobe had never been particularly fond of cheese, and he didn't suppose he was going to start now.

.tbc.


	3. Chapter 3

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Nice, appreciated but not obligatory.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 3

By Miki

Yuuta sighed a little as he trudged into his dormitory room and dropped his tennis bag on the floor.

He kicked his shoes off towards his bed, and pulled his sweat-soaked shirt off over his head, dropping it on the floor.

Mizuki had been in a terrible mood all practise, even though it was Saturday and even though no one had switched his hair shampoo or nicked off with his socks or hit balls into his head.

Yuuta's calves were aching, and he blamed it on the fact that Mizuki had demanded a hundred shuttle runs right after he'd given Yanagisawa a hundred laps for making loud, obnoxious comments about Atsushi's shorts.

Yuuta had pointed out that Yanagisawa would probably be dead after a hundred laps, to which Mizuki had smiled, chuckled and told Yanagisawa to hurry up if he didn't want two hundred.

Personally, Yuuta suspected Mizuki just wanted an excuse to get back at Yanagisawa for the hair shampoo incident last week.

One day Mizuki's training regime was going to kill him, Yuuta thought.

As he pulled off his shorts, he frowned a little at the bruise forming on his thigh – the first year who'd accidentally hit him was probably still quivering behind the sheds – and touched it tentatively. It stung, and he flinched and instinctively looked around for anything cool he could put on it.

And of course, Mizuki had to choose that moment to push Yuuta's door wide open and waltz right in.

He chuckled at the sight of Yuuta in his boxers and socks, something which sent distinct shivers up Yuuta's spine before the surprise wore off and he realised he was rather undressed and that Mizuki was here.

And people in the corridor were staring.

"Mizuki! Knock before you walk in!" he huffed loudly; cheeks flaming pink as he hurriedly walked to his bathroom and slammed the door. Stupid Mizuki, Yuuta thought miserably. He was always doing things like this.

A moment later, there was a knock at the bathroom door and Yuuta instinctively turned the lock.

"You know your socks and boxers don't match, Yuuta," Mizuki purred through the door, and Yuuta shuddered.

Maybe he should have gone home for the weekend after all.

Syuusuke would have scared Mizuki right off.

Syuusuke scared a lot of people off actually.

(S)

Yuuta looked at the café with more than a little apprehension.

It was already late afternoon, and he'd have preferred to get back to the dorms so he could finish off his homework and make sure he got to dinner on time (before all the edible food had disappeared), but Mizuki had insisted. That was, Mizuki had draped his arm around Yuuta's neck and reminded him that Yuuta had promised him last week that he'd come, and instead he'd gone home, and if Yuuta didn't come with him today, Mizuki was going to have to call his brother and talk.

Yuuta had weighed up his options for all of about ten nanoseconds before deciding that going out with Mizuki was a whole lot better than having Mizuki talk to Syuusuke.

Especially when he considered all the things Mizuki could talk about.

Yuuta honestly couldn't understand his manager's fascination with his brother. Furthermore, the thought of Mizuki and Syuusuke ever getting along gave him chills, even more so than the thought of Mizuki telling Syuusuke about the magazines he'd found under Yuuta's bed or the fact that he'd once found three pairs of boxers in Yuuta's pile of dirty clothing just one day after he'd done his laundry.

(When Yuuta had lost his temper at Mizuki asking him why exactly he was sorting through his dirty clothes, Mizku had told him it was an irrelevant question. What was relevant was that he was entirely available should Yuuta ever need to consult him about this sort of thing. Yuuta didn't think he ever would.)

And so, here he was at a café in the centre of the city; a newly-opened, upmarket-looking place that Mizuki wanted to try out for their green tea crème brulees.

A slight grimace on his face, Yuuta followed Mizuki inside.

(S)

"Stop here," Atobe directed suddenly, authoritatively, startling his driver into braking a little hard and swerving in the general direction of the kerb.

The limousine pulled into a no-standing zone at the side of the road and Atobe glanced through the tinted window at the café on the other side of the glass.

"Kabaji, get me a strawberry milkshake and make it quick," Atobe instructed, his tone a little sharper than usual.

"Usu," Kabaji replied, opening the door and walking out and into the café.

Atobe peered after him.

He was thirsty and he couldn't wait another ten minutes until he arrived back home. Of course, he could have had anything else from the minibar in the back of the limousine, but he had a sudden craving for a milkshake, and he knew for a fact that the milkshakes here were good.

Saturday morning training had taken more out of him than he'd anticipated. He'd stayed up later than he'd meant to the night before, so he'd been a little tired in the first place, but then he'd had other things with which to deal – things like Choutarou and Shishido and Jirou and the unnamed shirt which had turned up in his locker in the clubroom.

Kabaji was taking his time, he noted with annoyance.

Atobe stretched out his arms in front of him, practising his patience. But when Kabaji still hadn't returned after another three minutes, he frowned and twitched a little, wanting to know exactly what was taking the boy so long.

Another two minutes and he'd had enough waiting. If Kabaji wasn't going to return any time soon, he'd just have to go in and get his drink himself. He'd have called, but his phone had gone flat that morning after he'd had to make a rather long call to Jirou's house to make sure he'd get out of bed and to training on time.

He could hardly send the driver either. He'd probably be just as slow as Kabaji.

"Driver," he said quickly, tone flat and bored.

The driver took a glance in the rear-view mirror at Atobe's expression and hurriedly hopped out of his seat to run around and open Atobe's door with a flourish.

Atobe swung his legs out and stepped up onto the footpath, trying not to look annoyed as he opened the door to the café and stepped inside.

It was busier than he'd anticipated. All of the tables were taken, and most of the seats were as well, and the queue at the counter was seven people long.

Kabaji stood second from the end.

Atobe looked at the pimply youth behind the counter and his co-worker, who looked about 70 and as though she ought to have been in a nursing home already, and decided that the wait wasn't worth the bother.

He could feel a headache coming on, and he irritably marched up to Kabaji, about to tell him to forget about the milkshake and hurry back to the limo when a familiar voice caught his attention.

(S)

Yuuta tapped the top of his crème brulee, watching with satisfaction as the spoon cracked the hard sugar layer and sank into the soft, fluffy texture beneath.

The café was a lot busier than he'd thought it would be, and it was actually not half as bad as he'd imagined either. Mizuki hadn't said (or done) anything weird yet, and he'd even kept his legs on his side of the table, which was something he normally didn't seem to be able to do for more than five minutes.

Yuuta scooped up a little of his dessert and put the spoon in his mouth, pleasantly surprised at the taste.

When Mizuki had said 'green tea crème brulee' at first, he'd been thinking something horribly disgusting that only people with "tastebuds with taste" would like – things like snails and frogs and lamb's brains and those other weird things Mizuki sometimes tried to feed him. But this was actually… quite…

Yuuta searched for the word, but came up blank.

Well, anyway, it was good.

Better than snails.

"What do you think, Yuuta?" Mizuki asked, his eyes focused only on Yuuta.

Yuuta nodded. "It's good," he replied, a little smile of relief on his face.

Mizuki seemed pleased enough with that, and chuckled. "You're more of a sweet tooth than you look, Yuuta."

Yuuta shot him a glare. "Mizuki-san…"

"It's too bad your sister's never available these days," Mizuki mused aloud. "Wouldn't it be fun to go out together, Yuuta?"

Yuuta cringed, but said nothing. Mizuki never paid him any heed when he was in one of these moods anyway.

"Perhaps I should come and visit you when you return home next," Mizuki continued. "What do you think?"

Yuuta cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I don't think so," he mumbled, and put another spoonful of dessert into his mouth.

"Your brother will be home, won't he? It's been a long time since we've seen each other, and I'm sure he's missing the stimulation of having a rival…"

Yuuta tactfully looked away. Mizuki never got to finish his sentence though, and Yuuta was spared the trouble of thinking up a reply as they both found themselves interrupted.

"Fancy meeting you here… Fuji Yuuta."

Yuuta looked up quickly, not recognising the voice.

Luckily he was sitting on a couch and not on a chair or he might have fallen right off.

Atobe Keigo stared back at him, a smug look on his face as he flicked his grey hair.

Yuuta couldn't help but frown a little, slightly confused.

Atobe, apparently, wasn't used to such silent greetings, and made a small noise of annoyance before sitting down on the couch in the space next to Mizuki.

Mizuki twitched.

It was entirely one thing to bump into Atobe and endure his ego for one or two minutes, but it was entirely another when he actually seemed to want to outstay his welcome and intrude on Mizuki's hard-won time with Yuuta. And _only_ Yuuta.

Yuuta blinked, unsure what he was supposed to say to that.

"I notice the standard of your company seems to have deteriorated since the last time I saw you," Atobe said, filling in the silence. Clearly both boys were too stunned by his presence to produce any meaningful conversation, so he'd have to make his own.

"I thought you'd appreciate mine," Atobe continued when it was clear that neither had yet recovered from the surprise.

Yuuta looked across at Mizuki.

Mizuki looked mildly irritated, though with the tight, stressed smile he was sporting, Atobe was possibly just egotistic enough not to notice it at all and go on talking until Mizuki lost his temper and poured his coffee over Atobe's head.

If Syuusuke were here, he'd probably say it added colour to the greys.

"And to what do we owe the honour of your visit, Atobe-san?" Mizuki asked, twirling a strand of his hair. Yuuta noticed it wasn't the loose, unconscious action of a plotting, scheming or otherwise evilly-engaged Mizuki. It was the tight, snappy action of a hand which would rather be doing something to get rid of Mizuki's current problem.

Atobe blinked, a blank expression on his face as he turned to Mizuki. He'd met this boy before; annoying thing that he was.

"I'm waiting for my drink, isn't that obvious?" he replied a little shortly.

Mizuki pursed his lips.

Yuuta couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. He knew who Atobe was, and what he was like, and he had no idea why Hyoutei's captain was coming and bothering them right now. He should have better things to do with his time, like preening himself or picking out his fleas or something.

It had been weird enough having Atobe turning up in his house last week, and Yuuta didn't really want to repeat the experience.

"Don't you have a lapdog to do this for you?" Mizuki asked tersely, patience stretched thin.

Atobe smirked. "I don't employ dogs, actually, so you need not apply."

"I shouldn't bother anyway," Mizuki retorted quickly. "Arse-licking really isn't my thing."

The smirk didn't disappear from Atobe's face as Kabaji appeared at the table and placed a takeaway cup in front of Atobe, who picked it up and took a sip.

"Shouldn't you be leaving now?" Yuuta grumbled, half-glaring at Atobe.

Atobe sat back and crossed his arms. "Why should I? We're having an amicable conversation, aren't we?"

"No."

"Granted, the company could be better, but I'll make do with what I have."

Yuuta twitched.

Mizuki grit his teeth.

Atobe, true to character, ignored their irritation and kept the smug look on his face, happy to stir them up.

He hadn't realised before how different Fuji Syuusuke and Fuji Yuuta were. Stirring Fuji's little brother up was proving to be a little more fun than he'd thought. It was true that he was hardly his brother's rival when it came to conversation, but he was amusing in his own way.

"You wouldn't happen to be on another date, would you Yuuta? Because I'd hate to be the person to rain on your parade for a second week… There's no fun in monotony after all… na, Kabaji," he said coolly, turning to the boy in question.

"Usu."

"It wasn't a date," Yuuta insisted loudly, a blush returning to his cheeks as he thought of all the things Syuusuke liked to tell people.

"And it's none of your business anyway," he glared, shoving the last of his crème brulee into his mouth and glaring across at Mizuki.

They were leaving.

Now.

Atobe shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "Well I'm glad you had the decency to clarify that for me. I was starting to wonder why Fuji would be wasting his time on someone like you. People say he's a genius, but clearly a genius ought to have better taste than that…"

Atobe paused for effect.

"Don't you agree, Yuuuu-ta?"

Yuuta stood up abruptly, glaring down at Atobe so fiercely that he was almost taken aback at the expression on the other's face. Somehow, he'd expected just a little more self-control out of Fuji's brother.

"Of course, you're entirely at liberty to prove me wrong," he smirked, hoping very much that Yuuta would take up his challenge.

(S)

Yuuta fumed all the way back to the dorms, so much so that Mizuki didn't actually dare speak another word until they were within the safe confines of St Rudolph.

Hours later, he was still fuming as he lay in bed, glaring across at the wall in the darkness.

They'd missed all the edibles for dinner, so they might as well have stayed out for it instead.

His homework was finished – he was sure he had a lot of incorrect answers in there – but finished was finished as long as all the spaces were filled with _something_.

But still, Yuuta couldn't help but feel pissed off.

Atobe's voice kept repeating itself in his head. The way he said 'Yuuta' was really, really annoying.

Yuuuu-ta.

Yuuuu-ta.

_Yuuuu_-ta.

Yuuta turned over, glaring now at the opposite wall. Stupid Atobe.

He fell asleep, dreaming of tennis balls that kept bouncing out of his reach and of Atobe's voice saying his name over and over and over again.

(S)

Atobe looked up as a voice startled him from his thoughts. Hyoutei's practise session was going along nicely, his plan was progressing, his lemonade was cold and all in all, he could hardly be more satisfied.

Although… He wasn't entirely sure how to proceed with Fuji Yuuta. He had risen to the bait, just as Atobe had wanted him to, but he hadn't _bitten_.

"How's your mouse?" Jirou asked, rocking on the balls of his feet, racquet held in front of him.

Atobe frowned. "What mouse? Why would ore-sama keep such a vile thing as a mouse?"

Jirou blinked. "You know…"

Atobe rolled his eyes and stood up, picking up his tennis racquet. "Come, Jirou. I want to play."

"Okay," Jirou said readily, grinning as he led the way to the free court, the mouse already forgotten.

.tbc.


	4. Chapter 4

Archive: NO. 

Reviews: Would be appreciated but are not obligatory. Enjoy the story. :D

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 4

By Miki

Monday afternoons were beginning to rank as Yuuta's least favourite day of the week.

Standing in the public library, he stared up at the top shelf at the book he couldn't quite grab.

It had taken him long enough to find the book in the library's cataloguing system and now all he wanted to do was get it and go back to school.

It was after five already and he didn't want to miss the edibles at dinner again… He could swear he could still taste the aftertaste of all those green vegetables from last time.

Besides, if he didn't get back and check in before dinner, he'd get a scolding from the woman at the front desk again, and he really, really didn't want that.

Looking around again, Yuuta was glad the library was pretty deserted, and he stood on the tips of his toes as he reached up for the top shelf again. He had no idea why someone had bothered putting shelves up this high when most of the population couldn't reach, but it was pretty inconvenient.

He felt another shelf under his right hand, and pushed on it a little, trying to gain leverage.

The fingers of his left hand brushed the spine of the book he wanted, and he grimaced and pushed down harder on the shelf with his right hand.

Just a little more, just another centimetre even!

Wincing as he felt the muscles in his side straining, he was about to give up when he saw a hand over his, pulling the book out by its spine and Yuuta let go of the shelf, stumbling back as he regained his footing.

Turning to look at the person who'd taken the book down for him, he blinked in surprise.

Atobe Keigo held the book out to him, one eyebrow raised.

"Is climbing bookshelves a hobby of yours?"

"Better than stalking," Yuuta retorted quickly.

Then he frowned and took the book, flicking the cover open to check it was definitely the right one. "Thanks," he said gruffly, a flip of nervousness in his stomach, cheeks blushing pink with embarrassment.

Atobe gave no signal he'd heard Yuuta's comment and looked at the bookshelf, silent.

"Hey," Yuuta said quietly. "Don't you have a library at Hyoutei?"

Atobe shrugged this time, turning to look at Yuuta. "It's rather inadequate for my needs, being catered to people of lower intelligence and lesser ambition…" He paused and looked at Yuuta. "I don't see any point in wasting my time there."

Yuuta stood still for a moment, processing Atobe's words.

"Whatever," he grumbled, eyes scanning the other titles in this aisle for a moment, and then sneaking a look sideways at Atobe.

The public library was about the last place Yuuta had ever expected to bump into anyone else, let alone Atobe. It was kind of weird, and Yuuta couldn't quite get his head around it.

He felt somehow… as though he was intruding somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. And he still hadn't forgotten Atobe's words from the week before.

"Why are you reading Arthur Miller, by the way?" Atobe enquired, his voice breaking Yuuta's train of thought.

Yuuta shrugged, avoiding looking at Atobe and staring at his shoes instead.

"English class," he said by way of explanation, pulling out a book by Ian McEwan and feigning interest in the cover.

Atobe also pulled out a book, tapping it with his finger. "If you're reading Miller for that, I'd rather recommend Death of a Salesman than The Crucible," he said, a bored know-it-all expression on his face as he gestured to the book in Yuuta's hand.

"Not that any of Miller's work ever interested me," he added when Yuuta didn't reply.

Yuuta tried to keep the confusion from his face as he took the book from Atobe, looking it over and flicking it open.

He'd never actually read much in English before, but it was catching up to him now and his teacher was bugging him to try reading novels in English. She'd said Miller would be easy, but Yuuta was wondering what her idea of 'easy' actually was.

He couldn't understand half the words on the page and the rest didn't make any sense.

"Let me guess," Atobe said suddenly, smirking. "You actually don't have any idea what you're reading."

Yuuta glared, annoyed Atobe could see straight through him. "Of course I do!"

Atobe arched an eyebrow – Yuuta would swear they were plucked – and picked up another book before turning and heading towards the checkout desk. "I'll leave it to you then, Fuji Yuuuu-ta."

Yuuta growled. "Stop calling my name like that," he snapped spitefully.

Atobe stopped walking and turned around, chuckling in amusement. "What should I call you then, Yuu-ta?"

Yuuta hesitated for a moment before meeting Atobe's eyes. "Just Yuuta."

"Okay then, Yuuta," Atobe conceded, though the smug curve of his lips stayed the same.

As he turned to walk to the check out desk though, a couple of kids ran past, one of them pushing him a little.

Atobe stumbled back ungracefully, a grimace on his face as he adjusted his footing and then glared after them. "Uncouth commoners," he snorted, brushing down his shirt with the tips of his fingers, a look of disdain on his face.

"What's wrong with your foot?" Yuuta asked, causing Atobe to look at him quickly.

Yuuta thought he looked a little surprised for a moment, as though he wasn't expecting the question.

"Nothing."

Yuuta frowned and then shrugged, watching Atobe's feet as he followed him to the checkout desk.

He could have been wrong, but it seemed like Atobe was walking a bit gingerly.

Funny, he didn't notice it before.

The librarian seemed oddly flustered and dropped Atobe's library card as she was handing it back to him, and when he bent down to pick it up – the inconvenience of Kabaji not being here – Yuuta realised why.

It looked like Atobe had new shoes. And from the look of his heel, they weren't exactly a perfect cut.

Yuuta checked out his books quickly, realising Atobe was standing to the side, flicking through a book on a stand, apparently interested in…

Yuuta quirked his head to the side.

The basics of… _pedagogy_?

Somehow, he couldn't imagine Atobe ever taking up teaching… unless he was teaching about himself for some reason.

The librarian handed back his books with a hurried smile, and Yuuta fumbled in his wallet for a moment.

As he walked past Atobe, he dropped a bandaid onto the boy's pile of books.

(S)

It took Atobe a moment to recognise what Yuuta had dropped onto his book. He restrained himself from calling out as Yuuta walked out of the library, and felt somewhat annoyed that he'd let another chance slip by.

That hadn't been part of the plan.

Though he was starting to think Jirou's plan had no logic to it anyway, and it was thrice as hard to pin down Fuji Yuuta as it was to get Fuji Syuusuke. Atobe wondered if asking Jirou for more advice would be beneficial.

He supposed it could be.

After all, Jirou seemed to have a lot of insight into cheese.

As he waited for his limo to arrive, he picked up the bandaid between the tips of his fingers and looked at it.

Only a boy scout would actually carry around such a thing, he thought, unimpressed.

(S)

He'd never admit it later, but the first thing Atobe did when he got into his limo a few minutes later was to pull off his shoe and sock, and stick Yuuta's bandaid on his heel.

The ugly thing was green, and it had dinosaurs on it, and Atobe couldn't even begin to imagine where anyone would have bought such an atrocity. Nevertheless, he reasoned that no one would see it there and his foot was sore.

Sore enough to warrant a gaudy piece of elasticised plastic with dinosaurs on it.

Clearly it wasn't just bad manners that ran in the Fuji family. They could do with some taste as well.

(S)

"What are you thinking about, Yuuta?" Mizuki asked, watching Yuuta across the large library desk later that night.

Yuuta snapped out of his stupor and replied automatically. "Nothing,"

"I can see that," Mizuki sighed, curling his hair around his finger. "I know what you're thinking about."

"What?" Yuuta asked, resting his cheek on his hand as he finished scribbling the last of his answers to his English homework.

Mizuki chuckled. "Me, of course."

Yuuta blinked.

He didn't say anything back. Once Mizuki got these ideas into his head, nothing would stop him.

Besides, it was a whole lot better than Mizuki knowing he'd actually been thinking about Atobe instead.

.tbc.


	5. Chapter 5

Notes: Thank you to Lady Tenebrae and to Joel for reviewing. :D 

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 5

By Miki

Yuuta yawned as he woke up. Still sleepy, he blinked a few times before he realised he was staring at Mizuki's face.

Mizuki was holding his alarm clock.

Yuuta blinked some more and then realised that his alarm clock looked broken.

Things were usually broken when they looked like they'd been trampled upon.

"Mizuki… what did you do to my alarm clock?" he asked, trying to shrink back into his pillow when Mizuki leaned forwards.

"_I_ didn't do anything, _Yuuta_."

"Oh, then… Then why is it broken?"

Mizuki twirled a strand of hair and closed his eyes, looking annoyed.

"I don't know, but if it wasn't broken when you went to bed last night and it's broken now, then perhaps you should ask yourself."

"Oh… But I-" Yuuta began, only to be interrupted by Mizuki.

"Yuuta, you're going to be late for practise, and if you think I'm going to be nice to you just because you broke your own alarm clock, then I'm not." He opened his eyes and got off the bed.

It was then that Yuuta sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking at Mizuki properly. Strange, his shirt seemed kind of pink in patches.

"Mizuki."

"Yes, Yuuta?"

"Why does your shirt look pink?"

Mizuki tensed. "Because it _is_ pink, Yuuta. Doesn't pink look good on yours truly?"

"But-"

"Hurry up Yuuta, I didn't come in and wake you up so you could waste more time," Mizuki snapped, walking to the door, opening it and then leaving.

Yuuta cursed for a moment, looking around for another clock in the room. There wasn't one.

He only realised when he reached the courts that actually he wasn't late at all.

Mizuki smiled almost sinisterly at him from the bench.

"Yuuta, come here."

(S)

"What sort of cheese are we talking about again?"

"Supermarket cheddar, does it really matter?" Atobe replied, raising an eyebrow at Jirou.

"I guess not… But you don't really like supermarket cheddar, do you?"

Atobe sighed a little, flicking his pen, lips pursed.

"So… the other plan didn't work?" Jirou asked hesitantly.

"What do you mean the other plan didn't work? I'm still on the other plan," Atobe replied quickly, irked.

"Oh… You mean you're still trying to catch the cheese because the mouse won't pay you any attention."

"Yes, but you see, Jirou, the cheese is equally oblivious to Ore-sama's talents."

"So now to get the mouse to notice you, you have to get the cheese to notice you first," Jirou smiled, sitting back against the tree.

Atobe put his fingers to his temple.

"Atobe, you know some weird sorts of cheeses."

(S)

Atobe felt decidedly nervous.

It wasn't a feeling he was used to, and it annoyed him.

Obviously there wasn't any real reason Ore-sama should have been nervous – ceteris paribus, all other things being equal, there was no way he'd ever be turned down under these circumstances – except that all other things were not equal, because he'd decided that Fuji Yuuta bordered on the abnormal. Like his brother.

Commoners really were a defective breed of people, he thought in annoyance.

(S)

The man at the front office gave him a long look and Atobe had to repeat his question twice before the idiot actually moved and picked up the phone.

"Hello Mizuki-kun… Yes… No, I'm afraid it's not… Yes… Could you please ask Yuuta to come down to the office? He has a visitor… I don't know, I think he said his name was Adobe."

"It's Atobe," Atobe interrupted, fingers twitching on the counter top.

"Atobe… apparently," the man corrected.

"And tell him to wear nice clothes," Atobe demanded, crossing his arms.

The man on the phone gave Atobe a look of annoyance, but passed on the message with a raised eyebrow.

Atobe really hated having to talk to people like this. Communicating was such a chore; he'd have rather left it to Kabaji.

Except that he didn't really want Kabaji to know about this – 'this' meaning the fact that he was at St Rudolph's boys dormitory and the fact that he wasn't here by accident or by appointment. 'This' was also the fact that he'd condescended so low as to bother chasing after someone like Fuji Yuuta and the fact that he was feeling horribly nervous and odd and oh, people were staring at him strangely.

They weren't stares of reverence. He'd have recognised those.

They were more similar to the stares Shishido had given Choutarou's lunch the other day.

Something along the lines of "do you really eat that stuff?"

Except that Ore-sama obviously wasn't meant to be eaten.

(S)

It was almost five minutes before Yuuta appeared.

He walked around the doorway from the stairwell, and tramped into the office, hands in his pockets, a kind of blank look on his face like he wasn't sure what to think.

Mizuki followed a moment later.

Atobe noted Mizuki was wearing a pink shirt – it looked like his uniform shirt had been thrown in with someone's red underpants in the wash – and he supposed he should have been glad Yuuta appeared to be wearing something half-decent, which wasn't pink.

He unconsciously smoothed down his own shirt – also pink, but deliberately pink, not accidentally.

It wouldn't do to be wearing matching colours after all. People might think they'd phoned each other up beforehand to ask what the other was wearing.

"Yuuta," he began, staring at the boy evenly. "What was so important that you kept Ore-sama waiting for so long?"

Yuuta stared back.

Mizuki didn't look happy.

Atobe, conscious of the looks he was getting, flicked his hair. "Well anyway, hurry up. We need to go," he said quickly, restraining from clicking his fingers.

"Go where?" Mizuki and Yuuta asked in unison.

"Dinner," Atobe responded quickly, wanting to make sure he was understood and obeyed.

"Who's going?" Yuuta asked, and Atobe could swear he was trying to be stupid.

"You, who else?" Atobe said impatiently, feeling silly standing here in the middle of the lobby of the dormitory, with all these silly St Rudolph boys pottering around in their house slippers.

He realised suddenly that neither Yuuta nor Mizuki was wearing house slippers, and panicked for a moment, wondering if they were already going out somewhere else.

Somewhere else would mean that Yuuta wasn't actually free to go out to dinner.

Which would mean Atobe would be rejected.

Which was something which hadn't yet happened.

And something he wasn't quite prepared for.

"Why?" Yuuta asked finally.

Atobe sighed. "Why what?" he asked back, trying to hide his nervousness with a look of well-practised exasperation.

"Why are you asking me out to dinner?"

"Look, it's five fifty-four and I'm hungry. That's why."

Yuuta turned to Mizuki, and Atobe found himself annoyed at the gesture.

There were a few mumbles he couldn't quite catch, and Mizuki twirling his hair and looking generally annoyed – that made two of them – and then Yuuta walked up to the man at the counter and gave him a pleading look and there was more discussion not involving Atobe, and then Yuuta finally turned around and looked at him and said:

"Okay."

Atobe blinked.

All that discussion and only a one word answer?

"Well, hurry up then," he ordered, walking out of the building to wait for Yuuta.

It was childish, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief; triumph even.

Of course Yuuta would never have thought to turn him down.

Nervousness was unbecoming on Ore-sama, he reminded himself, and gave Yuuta a disapproving look as he walked slowly out of the building.

Someone had to remind him who was in charge here.

(S)

"Where are we actually going?" Yuuta asked as he squirmed uncomfortably in the backseat of the limousine.

Atobe watched him with interest. "Dinner; I said so before. Is there something wrong with eating dinner at this time?"

Yuuta shook his head and continued looking uncomfortable. The condensation from his bottle of Coca Cola was making his hand wet, and Atobe noted he hadn't actually drunk any of it at all.

In fact, Yuuta looked almost as uncomfortable as if Atobe had ordered him to sit on a cactus.

He wondered if it was because Yuuta was just now beginning to understand the brilliance of his companion and felt inadequate by comparison.

Well, no matter. Most people felt inadequate standing in his shadow, or anywhere near him at that.

"So, Yuuta, how was your day?" Atobe asked. He'd asked Jirou about the sorts of small talk commoners liked to engage in, and Jirou had stated the obvious first; the mundane.

Apparently Yuuta thought it was a relatively normal question, because he answered without hesitation.

"Okay… I mean, tennis practise was normal and everything. School was okay."

Atobe nodded and took a sip of his drink, noting that no one had ever told Yuuta to construct his answers in a logical manner before he spoke them. It was a skill his parents had instilled in him at a young age, and one which he kept.

"Your manager is Mizuki Hajime, correct?"

Yuuta nodded. "Mizuki-san… Why?"

Atobe shrugged. "I heard rumours about him and I must say, I'm not sure he lives up to them."

"Mizuki is a good manager," Yuuta said quickly, and Atobe smirked.

"Well, good enough for a school like St Rudolph anyway."

Yuuta scowled. "Mizuki-san's been really good to me. He's the only person who never saw me as Fuji Syuusuke's little brother. You shouldn't badmouth Mizuki-san without knowing anything."

"You seem to like Mizuki a lot," Atobe observed, lips curling. "Well, that's good I suppose. You can make up for everyone else then."

He turned his head to look out the window as the limousine came to a stop at a set of lights.

Looking in the window, he watched Yuuta's reflection for a moment, regarding the head of short brown hair, the wide grey eyes and the scar near his temple.

He could perhaps be more aesthetically pleasing, although it wasn't as though he was entirely unattractive to the naked eye as he was…

He was frowning a little at the moment, and Atobe smiled a little in amusement. He'd noticed Yuuta did that a lot.

Where Fuji Syuusuke would smile, Yuuta would frown.

Then Atobe felt the limousine slow and he focused his attention on the scene beyond Yuuta's reflection.

"We're here," he announced, waiting as the driver ran around to open the back door.

Jirou had suggested that western cutlery sometimes intimidated commoners. He'd said the less forks and knives, the better.

Atobe had pondered Jirou's advice and decided that it was worth a try.

He wasn't sure how accurate it could be coming from a boy who was still asking him why he'd want to take cheese to dinner.

Atobe had told him that there was no such thing as a bring-your-own-cheese restaurant and to hurry up and finish his match with Oshitari.  
At any rate, Atobe had immediately ruled out Japanese food. No, something European would be far better, he'd thought.

In the end, he'd chosen a French restaurant, and he'd even had to bother making the reservation himself. (These sorts of restaurants were often full unless your name was Atobe, and Kabaji could be rather rough in communicating over the telephone.)

"After you," Atobe drawled, amused as Yuuta stepped out of the vehicle and stalled, staring up at the building.

"Is this it?" Yuuta asked quietly, fidgeting.

"No, we just parked in front of this restaurant so we could walk another five blocks to McDonalds," Atobe replied with a roll of his eyes.  
It took Yuuta a moment to recognise the sarcastic tone in Atobe's voice, and when he did, he gave Atobe a half-smile as he followed him inside.

Luckily for Atobe, there was a doorman standing by to open the door for them or he might just have walked straight into it.

.tbc.


	6. Chapter 6

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 6

By Miki

Atobe watched Yuuta with interest.

Jirou had said that the less pieces of cutlery on the table, the better, but Atobe suspected the way Yuuta was squirming and looking nervous had nothing to do with the number of utensils on the table.

Truth be told, he was looking a lot more like a mouse right now than Fuji ever had, and Atobe sighed as Yuuta thanked the waiter – again – as he refilled his glass of water. It was Yuuta's third in about ten minutes, and Atobe was sure he'd be running to the bathroom for the rest of the night if he kept it up.

"You can stop thanking him, you know," Atobe mentioned dryly, watching Yuuta fidget and look around.

"Ah… yes," came the quick answer, Yuuta's eyes snapping back to Atobe, who sighed in resignation and put down his menu.

He sat back in his chair and regarded Yuuta for a moment, wondering what on earth he'd been thinking when he'd imagined a nice, mutually agreeable meal.

"Would you like to change restaurant?"

Yuuta shook his head.

Atobe sighed again, closing his eyes and massaging his temple.

He wasn't a mind reader, but apparently he was going to try.

"What is it then? Is it the chair? You don't like this table? You want a different drink? You're famished and you can't hold a semi-decent conversation until you get some sustenance?" Atobe said somewhat snappishly.

"Actually," Yuuta began, and Atobe could see he was hesitating.

"Go on."

"Um… Well, I… can't read the menu."

"You can't read the menu," Atobe repeated, looking down at the offending menu.

There was nothing weird about it as far as he could see – aperitifs and entrees, mains and desserts. The wine list sat in the centre of the table, untouched.

"Do you need reading glasses?" he finally asked.

Yuuta's cheeks turned pink. "No… I… It's in French."

Atobe frowned and looked at the menu again.

"You can't read French?" he enquired, raising an eyebrow.

What sort of deprived education were the students given at St Rudolph, he wondered.

Yuuta gave a shake of his head, squirming as Atobe all but glared at him. It would have been fine anywhere else – the tennis courts even, because they'd be on a level playing field there. But they weren't on court; they were in a fancy French restaurant with fancy French menus he couldn't read and he was still wondering why Atobe had dragged him out because he'd never had anything to do with Atobe before and all of a sudden, he felt like he was being stalked and this was almost as embarrassing as eating out with Aniki, except that Atobe wasn't doing weird things with his hands where people couldn't see.

Yuuta's head was spinning.

"Well, there's nothing for it," Atobe finally replied and frowned a little. "Someone will just have to read it to you."

Yuuta opened his mouth to protest, but Atobe had already snapped his fingers and the waiter was walking over.

(S)

"Syuusuke?" Yumiko asked, concern in her voice.

Her brother had been sitting in the same spot for about ten minutes, not saying anything, not doing anything but frowning.

"Syuusuke? Are you okay?" she asked again, petting him on the head as she walked past to turn on the TV.

Fuji looked up, his expression serious.

"Yuuta didn't answer his phone."

Yumiko smiled, shaking her head. "He's probably eating dinner right now."

"Mizuki answered it."

"Oh? I hope you weren't too mean to him, Syuusuke," Yumiko teased.

Fuji sat back, looking tired, ignoring his sister's comment. "He said Yuuta was _out_."

"He was… _out_," Yumiko repeated, curious about the emphasis on the last word. "Perhaps he has… I don't know… extracurricular activities? An excursion perhaps?"

Fuji shook his head. "No, not that kind of out. I think he meant that Yuuta was out with someone."

"Oh Syuusuke," Yumiko laughed, sitting down next to him on the sofa. "Yuuta can look after himself. I'm sure if you ask him later, he'll tell you all about it."

Her brother's expression didn't change, and Yumiko shook her head, hiding her amusement.

"At least he's not out with Mizuki," she offered, trying to lighten up the mood.

Fuji opened his eyes and looked at her. "He could be out with someone worse."

Yumiko blinked. "Who are you thinking of?"

Fuji shrugged. "No one in particular… But there's been a lot of garbage floating around lately, hasn't there?"

Yumiko gave her brother an uneasy look.

She'd never considered before that there were people Syuusuke disliked more than Mizuki Hajime, and she couldn't help but worry a little as she got up and walked into the kitchen.

Syuusuke had reacted badly enough when he'd been confronted with Yuuta's adoration for his manager.

Maybe she should give Yuuta a little warning…

(S)

Atobe took a sip of his drink and looked across at Yuuta.

This was just becoming ridiculous.

"Look," he said, putting his glass down and staring across at the boy. "I didn't invite you here so that I could merely _look_ at you."

"…"

"No matter what anyone else says, you're not exactly model material, are you?"

If he had wanted to look at someone aesthetically pleasing – good bone structure, perfectly balanced features and blemish-free skin – he could have stayed home and looked in the mirror.

Yuuta seemed confused at Atobe's answer, and eventually frowned, giving Atobe an odd sort of stare.

"So why am I here anyway?"

Atobe creased his brow in irritation. "I already told you that, didn't I? I wanted to eat dinner and I wanted a companion. Of course, under normal circumstances, the socially acceptable thing to do would be to have a half-decent conversation while we both pretend to be interested in whatever we're talking about while waiting for our dinner, and then of course once we'd eaten dinner, we'd keep up the act for a good half-hour longer before making excuses and escaping via the front door."

Yuuta took a moment to process Atobe's words, and then grinned.

Atobe Keigo. Oh. He was having dinner with Atobe Keigo at a freaking French restaurant which probably cost an arm and a leg and Atobe seriously looked like it was the worst thing on earth.

Maybe it was.

"You must have a lot of boring dinner companions."

"Indeed," Atobe said with a roll of his eyes and a flick of his hair. "Now hurry up and tell me something half-interesting before you become one of them."

That was… unexpected, he thought, watching Yuuta.

He realised snapping at people over the dinner table was hardly good manners, but he didn't have a perfect temper, and he'd half expected Yuuta to snap back as well.

Maybe it was just because he hadn't expected it, but it made Atobe feel awkward, so he tried to push aside the feeling. It wasn't as though he showed his feelings on his face though, so he had no worries that Yuuta would think he was anything but absolutely bored.

He'd practised a lot since it was a useful skill to have.

Yuuta blinked at the demand.

"Interesting? What's interesting to you?"

Atobe waved his hand. "Oh I don't know… Have you read Miller's 'Death of a Salesman' yet?"

Yuuta looked suddenly sheepish, and Atobe presumed the answer was a no.

"I did… I had to ask Mizuki for help and it took a whole two days," Yuuta said, feeling stupid.

He didn't actually know much about Atobe, but he guessed the other aced most of his subjects. He seemed really confident at any rate, though that could just be the ego talking.

If egos could talk, Atobe's would have a megaphone and a satellite system.

"You read it?"

Yuuta tilted his head slightly as he gave Atobe an inquisitive look. "Yeah, what else was I supposed to do with it?"

Atobe paused in replying. He supposed Yuuta had a point… of sorts… "I'm just surprised," he said, smiling a little. "You don't seem the studious type."

"I'm not," Yuuta returned blankly.

Atobe tilted his head, watching Yuuta still and waiting for him to elaborate.

"Mizuki found out my English grade and it was either reading the book or running a couple hundred laps as punishment." Yuuta continued blankly.

Atobe smirked, trying really hard to hide the twitch at the corner of his lips threatening to become a smile.

Luckily he didn't have to hold his expression for much longer because their entrées arrived a moment later.

"Soupe à l' oignon," the waiter announced, placing a bowl in front of Yuuta.

Yuuta eyed his bowl, picking up his spoon and immediately poking around in the thick liquid, half expecting something odd to jump out at him.

"What?" Atobe asked, rolling his eyes. "There's nothing in there but onion."

Yuuta felt his cheeks pinken a bit, embarrassed to be caught out. "I know, I just…"

He tried to ignore Atobe's stare, and concentrated on looking at Atobe's dish instead.

Casserole d'escargots, as the waiter had said.

That was French for 'those slimy things that crunch when you step on them, and belong on the bottom of your shoes not on the top of your tongue.'

Yuuta suppressed a shudder.

"If you really wanted a snail so badly, you ought to have ordered one," Atobe drawled, interpreting Yuuta's intense stare as one of severe hunger.

"Er, no thank you," Yuuta said hurriedly, stumbling over his words in his effort to make sure Atobe didn't do anything like…

Oh no.

He watched as Atobe rather disdainfully picked up one of the little, slimy-looking things and placed it at the edge of his bread plate.

Oh.

No.

"No, I really… I…" Yuuta trailed off, staring across at Atobe, his mouth partially open.

There was a snail on his plate.

A de-shelled, dead, cooked, buttered, covered in garlic _snail_.

Atobe smiled. Of course, Yuuta had probably never dined in a restaurant like this before. It was only natural he'd be curious about the foods of the elite.

Jirou had said Atobe should be kind, and certainly sharing his entrée with Yuuta counted as being nice, particularly when he was sure Yuuta would never appreciate the taste of a fine garden snail as much as he would.

Pallets needed to be trained for the finer things in life, after all.

(S)

"Do you have a curfew?"

Atobe's voice interrupted Yuuta's thoughts, and he answered automatically.

"Around nine-thirty."

Atobe nodded. "I'll have my driver take you back by then."

Yuuta muttered a small thanks and put a forkful of steak into his mouth. He felt obliged to say thanks, but it was pretty weird considering he'd been dragged out of the dorm by Atobe in the first place.

He still didn't know why either.

It was really bothering him, but Atobe wasn't going to answer him, so he'd given up asking.

The stupid thing was, he was almost having a good time, apart from the snail, that was. He'd pushed it into the bottom of his soup when Atobe wasn't looking, and the small bits of onion and garnish he hadn't eaten had provided camouflage for it when the waiter had taken the bowl away.

He figured if he ever really wanted to eat a snail, he could always find one in the garden.

Aniki would probably offer to help him look.

(S)

Yuuta watched the streets pass as the limousine approached St Rudolph and the familiar school walls and buildings came into sight.

Atobe was sitting opposite him. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back, and Yuuta almost thought he was asleep until he spoke.

"Am I to assume you have tennis practise every day of the week?"

"Except Sundays," Yuuta replied. "Why?"

"So you go home on the weekends?"

"Sometimes… Why?"

"Are you going to the library next week?"

Yuuta gave a bemused smile. "Er… Do you mind telling me why you're asking?"

Atobe frowned before opening his eyes and staring intently at Yuuta for another moment or so. "Must I have a reason?"

Yuuta stared back. "Er…"

"Well actually, I was just thinking that there's another restaurant I've been meaning to try out, so if you're free next week I can pick you up from the library and we can go out for dinner."

Yuuta blinked. "Me?"

Atobe gave a flick of his hair, pursing his lips. "Well, yes. I'm not talking to anyone else, am I?"

Yuuta rubbed at the back of his neck self-consciously. "Ah, yeah…"

Though that didn't stop him from looking around the limo, just to be sure.

"So?" Atobe prompted, impatiently.

Yuuta hesitated a little longer, only muttering an okay as they reached the dormitory and the limousine slowed to a complete stop.

Atobe seemed satisfied enough with that answer, because he tilted his head towards the door as it was opened by the driver.

"You can get out now."

Yuuta did so.

A card was tossed his way a moment later, and he caught it, flicking it over to read it.

"Don't lose it," Atobe instructed, waving his hand.

A moment later, the driver shut the door and Yuuta bowed his head, mumbling his "good night" to no one in particular.

Then he turned and walked back into the dormitory building, staring down at the card Atobe had given him. Looking around quickly to check no one was watching, he raised the card to his nose and took a sniff.

He was right; it was perfumed.

Aniki had once said that rich people came from another planet entirely.

Yuuta was starting to think he had a point.

(S)

Yuuta was starting to feel those ten glasses of water.

The if-I-don't-make-it-to-the-bathroom-in-tw o-seconds-something-bad-is-going-to-happ en type of feeling.

As he ran along the corridor to his room, he realised there was someone outside his bedroom door.

Mizuki.

"How was it, Yuuta? You're in such a hurry to see me! How nice of you, Yuu-"

Mizuki couldn't even finish off his sentence as Yuuta pushed him out of the way, ran into his room and into the bathroom and slammed the door with a bang.

Mizuki chuckled and curled a strand of hair around his finger.

"That bad, huh?"

.tbc.


	7. Chapter 7

Notes: Thank you aynon and Lady Tenebrae for reviewing :3 I really appreciate it.

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 7

By Miki

Yuuta opened his eyes slowly.

Something was making noise.

It was still dark in his room, but he had no idea what time it was – his alarm clock was still broken and broken alarm clocks didn't tell the time.

He rolled over, willing the noise to stop, but then he realised that his pillow was vibrating and he blinked.

Someone was calling him.

He'd stuck his phone under his pillow so he didn't have to reach out of bed to his bedside table, but now he was wondering why he didn't just turn it off because the only sorts of people who ever rang in the middle of the night were weird people. And Yuuta liked to avoid weird people.

He knew enough of them already.

"Hello?"

"Yuuta."

"Aniki," Yuuta frowned, sitting up in bed and looking across to the wall in the dark. "Why are you calling?"

'Why are you bugging me in the middle of the night?' was what he really wanted to ask, but weird people did weird things, and Aniki always gave weird answers that made no sense, so he didn't ask.

"Because I wanted to talk to you, of course."

Yuuta yawned again, blinking and then sinking back down into his bed. "Why now?" he grumbled. "Couldn't you have waited until morning?"

Fuji was quiet for a moment. "But it is morning."

"_Later_ in the morning."

"Mizuki told me you were out. I thought I should check up on you."

Yuuta opened his mouth to reply.

Nothing came out.

What was Mizuki doing talking to Aniki?

It was the boxers. Definitely the boxers. Oh. Yuuta could see it now.

He wanted to bury himself in a hole.

"Yuuta," came Fuji's voice again, and Yuuta cringed.

"Let's go on a date this weekend."

"Huh?"

It wasn't the boxers.

"We could go to Disneyland and go on the rides together. Wouldn't that be fun, Yuuta?"

Yuuta didn't actually think so, but something told him that if Aniki was ringing in the middle of the night to ask him to go on a date, he'd better say yes.

(S)

When Yuuta next opened his eyes, it was bright in his room, and he wished he hadn't been so lazy in pulling his curtains shut the night before.

He shut his eyes again and stuck his head under the covers where it was dark still, trying to remember why he felt so tired.

A moment later, he heard the noise of the corridor outside and realised someone had opened his bedroom door.

"Yuuta!" came Mizuki's voice, and Yuuta stuck his head out from under the blankets, feeling really sorry that he hadn't bought a new alarm clock yet.

When he bought one, he'd remember he didn't want it to talk.

Or give advice.

"Oof! _Mizuki!_"

Or sit on him.

(S)

Atobe smiled a little as he sipped his coffee.

He looked around the empty dining room and was glad he'd sent the servants off for breakfast. Despite the fact that one _could_ have an ever present shadow, it didn't necessarily mean that one wanted such a thing. There were of course, times when he preferred to do things for himself.

Nothing strenuous though.

Atobe liked to draw the line at pouring his own coffee.

Seeing the newspaper strategically placed to his right, he picked it up and put it on the table, pushing his empty plate aside so he could flick through the pages quickly.

There was nothing, as usual.

The business pages were full of acquisitions, buyouts, advice of sorts and there was nothing interesting in the news or sports sections.

He frowned and pushed the paper aside, and for a moment, he wondered what Yuuta was doing.

He supposed Yuuta was eating breakfast at the dormitory.

Cereal probably – something easily distributed on a large scale at seven in the morning. Proper Japanese meals would probably be too much to ask every day, and boarders often seemed happy enough to settle for second-rate food anyway.

_Most_ people ate second-rate food most of the time.

Atobe ran his finger around the rim of his coffee cup absentmindedly as he pondered.

It had only just occurred to him that it was strange that Yuuta would board at St Rudolph when Fuji lived at home and attended Seigaku.

For some reason, it had never before crossed his mind to ask why.

The Kisarazu twins came to mind, and he remembered the rumours about Mizuki's recruitment of players – poaching, as it were – from other schools.

Surely he couldn't have gone out of his way to recruit someone like Yuuta. There was nothing that stood out about him, was there?

Certainly not compared to Fuji Syuusuke.

Atobe frowned and put his fingers to his forehead.

Was there something about Fuji Yuuta that Mizuki could see and he couldn't?

He blinked as he felt something hot on his finger and looked down in surprise to see his finger had slipped from the rim of his coffee into the cup itself.

Atobe pulled his finger out of his coffee, stared at it in disgust for a moment and then picked up the nearest napkin, wiping off the warm liquid.

He felt somewhat irked that such a trivial matter should matter at all. Really, Ore-sama didn't have time to bother with other people.

He hardly had time for himself sometimes.

So with a slight sigh, he got up from his chair, flicked his hair and looked around impatiently for a servant to attend to him.

Where was a half-decent butler when you wanted your jacket put on? Huh?

(S)

Yuuta wasn't always the perfect student in class.

But he wasn't usually this bad either.

His English text book was opened up to page sixty, and his note book sat in front of him, duly opened at a clean page. The date was written on the top and next to it, the topic title: Uses of verb tenses.

Unfortunately for Yuuta, scribbles of Mizuki, Kisarazu, Yanagisawa and a whole heap of flying tennis balls were not categorised as verbs.

His English teacher made a point of telling him so, and added that she wouldn't mind seeing more of his artwork.

In her offce.

After school.

(S)

Atobe examined a nail.

The woman who'd done his manicure a few days ago had pushed his cuticle back too far and he'd snapped at her for it, but it wasn't as though she could undo what she'd just done, so he'd have to put up with it. It felt a little sensitive though, and she hadn't been as careful with his hands as she ought to have been.

He frowned, and tapped the tips of his fingers on the table beside him.

"Kabaji."

"Usu."

"Hypothetically speaking," Atobe said, pausing and giving Kabaji a look, "if you gave your card to someone, when would you expect a phonecall in return?"

Kabaji hesitated in replying.

"Is it really too much to ask for people to be prompt?" Atobe complained, tapping his fingers on the tabletop again.

He watched the Hyotei regulars practising on the courts, and made sure to give some of the first years a stare that sent them scurrying. They shouldn't have been staring anyway.

Of course, most people couldn't help but stare at him, and he knew that. But they shouldn't be doing it when they had swings to practise and push-ups to do. Atobe wouldn't give people a chance to say that Hyotei slacked off.

"There might be such a thing as being _too_ prompt," Oshitari said, surprising Atobe as he joined the group.

Atobe took a sip of his drink and frowned. "Of course not. Commoners just have no manners whatsoever," he grumbled, one hand fumbling to check his phone in his pocket. "People should know better than to keep me waiting, na, Kabaji?"

"Usu."

Oshitari smirked, finding amusement in his captain's apparent bad mood.

"Whose call are you expecting?"

Atobe frowned. "I'm not expecting a call. Like I said, it was a hypothe-"

"Atobe," Jirou bounded over, racquet clasped in one hand. "I'm finished already!"

Atobe looked up and, sure enough, it looked as though Choutarou and Shishido had finished their training as well.

Sakaki wasn't around, and quite frankly, Atobe was ready to go home.

Perhaps he should have played a match.

It would have taken his mind off… _things_.

"-be… Atobe…"

"Hm?" He looked up, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Jirou gave him a troubled look, and he realised his team mates were waiting for him to instruct them.

He put his fingers to his temple, frowning.

"Are you okay, Atobe?" Jirou blurted out quickly, rocking forward and back on his heels as he looked at the boy with concern.

"Fine," Atobe said, waving his hand, trying to get his thoughts in order.

He was getting distracted.

He didn't have time right now to be thinking about these sorts of trifling matters; Hyotei had a practise session and they were wasting time right now, and Oshitari was giving him that look again.

And now his phone was ringing.

What timing, he thought, cursing whoever it was.

Then it hit him.

His phone was _ringing_.

He waved his team mates away with his arm and hurriedly pulled his phone out of his pocket, brushing down his shirt as though to compose himself before he answered the call.

"Atobe."

(S)

"Girl problems," Oshitari announced, adjusting his glasses and watching Atobe out of the corner of his eyes.

"I think it's the cheese," Jirou whispered, and Oshitari gave him a bemused smile.

"What cheese?"

"Oh," Jirou said, and looked around with wide, innocent eyes. "He didn't tell you about the cheese?"

"No, he didn't," Oshitari replied carefully, and Jirou suddenly thought that perhaps he shouldn't say anything else.

"Oh," he said, and grinned. "It's a secret then."

(S)

"Business?" Oshitari enquired as Atobe wrapped up his phone call and sat pressing buttons.

"None of yours."

"Oh? Jirou said something about cheese. I didn't know you were into that sort of thing."

Atobe blinked, looking up at Oshitari and narrowing his eyes.

Halfway through programming Yuuta's number, he let his fingers sit idle on the key pad for a moment.

"Isn't that a funny sort of fetish to have?" Oshitari continued, a smile on his lips.

It wasn't often that one found anything to tease Atobe Keigo about, and he could do with the entertainment.

Atobe rolled his eyes, failing to think of a verbal retort.

"Yu-uu…" came a voice from behind his head, and he stood up from his chair quickly, spinning around to glare at Mukahi Gakuto who'd apparently been reading his phone's screen.

"Yuu? Sounds like a girl," he teased, arms stretched behind his head. "I didn't think you were into that sort of thing."

Oshitari smirked, noting Mukahi's imitation of his words.

"Yuu-chan," Ootori blinked, slinging an arm around Shishido and joining in the staring at their captain.

Atobe twitched.

"Yuu-chan?" Jirou repeated, smiling at Atobe. "It's a nice name, isn't it?"

"Indeed," Atobe commented dryly. "You can think about it while you run."

"Run?"

Choutarou grasped Shishido's arm and began dragging him off.

If there was one thing he'd learned about Atobe, it was that there was nothing to know that wasn't already known.

That, and he'd learnt he didn't like laps.

(S)

Atobe lay on his back on his bed, holding his phone above him as he stared at his address book, thumbs idly pressing the up and down buttons alternately.

Yuuta's name sat at the bottom of his address book, still under the name 'Yuu', because that was as far as he'd gotten before Mukahi interrupted.

There was a knock at the door, and a moment later, the butler entered.

He placed a silver tray on the table, and waited for Atobe to sit up and wave his hand lazily before disappearing again and closing the door behind him.

If he was surprised at seeing his master lazing around uncharacteristically on the bed, he didn't say anything.

Atobe eyed the tray for a moment, and then flopped back onto his bed, turning his head to stare toward the window.

Yuuta had said he was free on Tuesday, and Atobe once again counted the days until then.

Too many.

He realised his chest felt funny again, and he sat up quickly, putting the back of his hand to his forehead.

He felt sick.

.tbc.


	8. Chapter 8

Archive: NO. 

Reviews: Appreciated. :D Thank you Lady Tenebrae for reviewing the last chapter. I'm happy you're enjoying reading such an odd couple :D

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 8

By Miki

Atobe flicked his pen over his knuckles, back and forth, back and forth, as he stared at the whiteboard.

The clock was ticking so slowly that he thought he was going to explode with impatience.

Back and forth, back and forth he flicked his pen, faster and faster until something hit him on the side of the head and he lost his grip on the pen.

It clattered to the floor noisily, and the teacher turned around, surveying the classroom for a moment, eyes narrowed behind square glasses.

As soon as she turned back around again, Atobe looked down at the thing that had hit him on the head and raised an eyebrow at a crumpled ball of paper.

He made sure to glare at Shishido, who didn't even have the decency to look ashamed at having thrown something at Ore-sama's head, and then quickly unfolded the paper before the teacher turned around to check again.

_Problems with Yuu-chan already?_

Atobe frowned, picked his pen off the floor disdainfully – really, it was a shame Kabaji wasn't here – and put his pen to the paper.

_No, problems with_ you.

He tossed it back with an easy flick of his wrist.

Shishido looked too amused for his own good, Atobe thought, and stuck his nose up, turning his attention back to the whiteboard.

He made a mental note to give Shishido laps later. Ten would do.

Something hit his shoulder.

Atobe turned around quickly, shooting a withering glare at Shishido as he looked down and picked up another bit of paper.

"Shishido, did you actually aim for his head or can't you throw?" came a low chuckle, and Atobe looked across at Oshitari, pursing his lips.

"Shut up. Next time I'll throw it at your head."

"Ever enthusiastic for variety, I see."

"Your head is bigger anyway. Chances are I won't miss."

Atobe pointedly ignored the silly conversation going on next to him. His better judgement told him he didn't want to read this piece of paper, but he opened it anyway.

A moment later he'd decided that Shishido and Oshitari would be running laps today. If not for the rest of the week if he could help it.

(S)

Jirou plonked down next to Atobe on the bench, smiling at him and swinging his legs out in front of him.

"Um, Atobe?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Shishido could stop running laps now?"

Atobe raised an eyebrow.

"I don't have anyone to play against," Jirou explained, and smiled hopefully.

Atobe looked around.

Hyotei's tennis club had more than two hundred members, and Jirou couldn't find anyone to play against?

He crossed his arms and frowned.

"Shishido can stop running laps when he apologises to Ore-sama."

Jirou's shoulders slumped. "But Atobe, how can he apologise when he's running like that?"

Atobe considered for a moment.

Quite frankly, Shishido had been asking for it. Oshitari was given laps as well, though not as many. _He_ hadn't been intentionally hitting Ore-sama's hair, after all.

"Atobe…"

Atobe looked at Jirou, willing him to continue talking.

"Well, I was thinking…" Jirou began, and looked around as though to check for people listening in.

Kabaji was standing behind Atobe, but that was normal enough, and to Jirou, Kabaji might as well have made up the scenery.

Still, he scooted a little closer on the bench and whispered loudly.

"Do you need girl advice?"

Atobe snorted. "What gave you that idea?" he retorted automatically, his pride insulted by the very notion he'd ever need advice on _girls_, of all things.

Jirou looked around. "Er… Well, you know," he said carelessly, waving his arm around.

He couldn't really tell Atobe that it was because he'd been wondering why Shishido would have to do so many laps. He'd asked Oshitari if he knew, and Oshitari had replied with something to do with bets and odds on Tezuka and girls and pimples and bad-hair days. Jirou had asked why there weren't any odds on cheese.

Apparently Oshitari had his money on the mysterious Yuu-chan, and Shishido and Choutarou had agreed.

Jirou couldn't understand what the point was in betting if they were all betting on the same thing.

Anyway, Oshitari had mentioned something about Atobe just happening to see the odds going around the classroom and didn't think sticking money on any of them was appropriate.

Which was why Shishido was still running laps.

"I mean, because I was helpful about the mouse advice, right? And you even got to take your cheese to dinner, and I helped you with that too, didn't I?" Jirou continued, pressing his point.

Atobe gave a sigh. "Look, Jirou," he said, planning the next few sentences in his head carefully.

Jirou looked at him, expectant.

"There is no-" Atobe stopped abruptly.

"There is no what?" Jirou blinked.

Atobe had been about to tell him there was no cheese, no mouse and no girl, when he realised he couldn't.

"Nevermind," he grumbled, waving his hand.

"But it did go well, didn't it? Your date with the cheese?" Jirou persisted, leaning closer to his captain and looking up at him.

Atobe sighed again, flicking his hair. Frowning, he flicked it again.

It didn't feel right.

"Date? It wasn't a date," he responded, patting his hair and wondering what was wrong with it.

He pointedly ignored Jirou's wide-eyed look.

Unfortunately, he had neither the looks nor the character to copy Jirou's skill in that department. The few times he'd tried puppy-eyes, he'd ended up with bug eyes instead.

"It wasn't?"

"No, of course not."

"Just because I went out with another person and went out with only that person to a nice restaurant with nice food and so on," Atobe paused, "does not mean it was a date."

"But I thought you went out with your cheese."

Atobe put his fingers to his forehead.

"Jirou, go and tell Shishido to stop running now," he said, resigned to the fact that Shishido would escape his punishment so he could escape Jirou's interrogation for today.

Jirou was happy to comply, grinning and jumping off the bench. "Yes Atobe," he sung, bounding off in the direction of Shishido.

Atobe clasped his hand around his phone in his pocket.

The palm of his hand felt sweaty; clammy, and that nervous feeling was back in his stomach again.

There were twenty minutes until the end of Hyotei's practise.

Atobe ended up counting every one.

(S)

"Yuuta," Mizuki cooed, announcing his appearance by opening the door as wide as possible and then leaning against the doorway. "Need any help?"

"Mi – Mizuki-san!" Yuuta spluttered, his face turning bright red.

Pants around his ankles, he looked up at the other boys in the corridor.

They looked back.

"I can see I arrived just in the nick of time…" Mizuki chuckled, lips curling in a rather disturbing way. "Your boxers don't match your socks, Yuuta."

In perfect coordination, every set of eyes in the corridor looked at Yuuta's boxers, at his socks and at his boxers again.

Yuuta gaped helplessly.

"_Shut the door Mizuki!!!_"

(S)

Atobe tapped a finger on his arm rest and looked out of the limousine's window at St Rudolph's dormitory.

Being early was for losers, and people who had nothing better to do with their time.

He was never early.

So he sat and tapped his finger until his watch ticked past 6 pm.

Then he sat for another two minutes, just in case Yuuta's clock was one that ran slowly – he couldn't have Yuuta thinking he was actually there on time, because that would defeat the purpose – and ordered his driver to pull the limousine up closer to the kerb, where he could get out without having to step onto the road first.

A moment later, door opened, hair flicked and shoes shining, Atobe walked to the lobby of the dormitory.

(S)

"Yuuta," Mizuki pouted, "you can stop looking grumpy now."

Yuuta glared at him. "You'd be grumpy too if the whole damn building saw you in your underwear!" he hissed, cheeks still pink with embarrassment.

"No I wouldn't." Mizuki raised an eyebrow and sat back, away from Yuuta. "I'm wearing Calvin Klein. Want to see?"

"No!" Yuuta shouted out quickly. "I mean," he corrected, as people turned to look, "I think I'll pass."

He really, really didn't want to see Mizuki's boxer shorts. Really, he didn't.

"Really? Too bad," Mizuki chuckled, amused.

They sat in silence for a moment, both watching the doors from the chairs in the lobby.

Mizuki was here to supervise, apparently. His mood had been swinging between good and bad all afternoon, and Yuuta wasn't quite game enough to ask why.

Yuuta was here… Well, he wasn't really sure why he was actually here at all.

He'd been wondering why he hadn't just told Atobe no, or refused to call him back, but then Atobe would probably have come marching in and dragged him out again.

Yuuta wasn't really keen to repeat that part.

And besides, dinner couldn't hurt.

Unless it was snails, Yuuta thought with a shudder.

At the sound of the doors opening, he looked up quickly, half relieved to see Atobe walking in.

"Yuuta," he greeted, eyeing Mizuki with annoyance.

"How nice of you to drop by, Atobe," he purred, before Yuuta even had a chance to open his mouth. He reached over and gripped Yuuta's wrist, taking him by surprise.

"It would be nicer if you weren't here," Atobe replied quickly, wishing Yuuta would be quick about leaving today. He eyed Mizuki's hand on Yuuta's wrist and stepped closer to Yuuta, holding out his hand.

"I'm sure the feeling is absolutely mutual," Mizuki chuckled, radiating a smile that made Atobe's hair stand on end.

Atobe smiled back.

"Mizuki-san," Yuuta said weakly, trying to pry off his manager's hand. "I can't go out if you don't let go."

"Well, that is the idea, Yuuta," Mizuki smiled, not taking his eyes off Atobe.

Atobe Keigo was not an unworthy adversary, he mused. Certainly _unexpected_, but not entirely _unwelcome_.

It was necessary, of course, to have adversaries in order to prove to everyone else exactly how wonderful you were when you beat them all.

He was about to let Yuuta's wrist go when a sudden noise startled them all.

Yuuta's phone was ringing.

He pulled it from his pocket with his spare hand – the one Mizuki wasn't cutting off the blood flow to – and answered it quickly.

"Aniki…"

Atobe looked at Mizuki.

Mizuki looked at Atobe.

_Here_ was something they could agree on.

(S)

Atobe dropped down onto the back seat and shot a glare at Yuuta.

"You've wrinkled Ore-sama's shirt," he accused, examining the shirt in question and frowning at the barely-visible wrinkles in the material.

Yuuta gave a blank look in return. "It was going to get wrinkled anyway."

Atobe sniffed disdainfully, miffed that Yuuta had had the disregard for his shirt to grab him by the arm and drag him to the vehicle.

Ore-sama was not someone to be _dragged_. It was terribly undignified, and he was glad there was no one of actual importance here to see it or he'd surely have died of embarrassment.

He watched Yuuta rub at his wrist a bit, and wondered if Mizuki gripped him the same way he gripped a racquet.

It looked like it had been uncomfortable.

"Where are we going?" Yuuta asked, shifting around in his seat a little as the vehicle began to move.

Atobe smirked. This was his territory.

"You'll know when we get there," he responded, amused at the scowl of annoyance that crossed Yuuta's face.

"I hope there aren't any snails," Yuuta muttered under his breath.

"What?" Atobe asked, frowning.

"Nothing."

Atobe raised an eyebrow, but Yuuta refused to elaborate.

Sighing, Atobe crossed his arms. "While we're at it, I hope you're going to tell me why you weren't available yesterday," he demanded, a feeling of irritation returning to him.

Yuuta had better not have been out with Fuji or Mizuki or anyone else for that matter. Bumping their dinner to Tuesday had been bad enough, but if he'd done it for anyone else it would have been criminal.

Yuuta's cheeks looked rather pink.

"Does it matter?"

Atobe snorted. "Of course it matters," he responded, frowning. "I had a reservation booked for Monday and I had to change it."

Yuuta seemed to hesitate for a moment.

Atobe waited.

"I had to see my English teacher."

"_See_ her? What for?"

Yuuta smiled a little, wishing he could avoid answering the question.

"Um… Well, you know. She wanted to see me in her office…"

"Why Monday?"

Yuuta looked uncomfortable. "Well I couldn't tell her no, could I? She's my teacher."

Atobe rolled his eyes. "Who's more important? Ore-sama or your teacher?"

Yuuta gave Atobe a deadpanned look. "Am I supposed to answer that?"

Atobe blinked, confused for a moment. "Well, it's a question. Why wouldn't you answer it?"

Yuuta turned his head toward the window, trying to hide his amusement.

He couldn't help but wonder why Atobe never saw the silliness of his own questions.

Maybe he'd grown up in an environment with lots of pushovers or something. Maybe he'd been born with the ability to charm people off their feet. Maybe he was just good at brainwashing. Remembering the Hyotei fans at their tennis matches, Yuuta was more than willing to believe it.

That guy who usually followed him around a lot was weird like that too. He was kind of like… A lapdog, almost.

But an oversized one.

If he sat in Atobe's lap, he'd probably squash him.

Yuuta couldn't help imagining it, and he snuck a glance at Atobe, suddenly wanting to laugh.

Oh. This was really ridiculous.

He couldn't believe he was sitting in a limousine with Atobe Keigo.

Again.

"Are you laughing at Ore-sama?" Atobe asked suddenly, frowning as he watched Yuuta struggling to keep a straight face.

"No," Yuuta answered, the twitch at the corner of his lips becoming even worse.

"You are," Atobe said loudly, insulted.

"Am not."

"You are! I can see you!" Atobe protested, and for a moment, he looked so utterly childish that Yuuta just grinned.

It was all he could do not to burst into laughter.

(S)

"You can stop laughing at Ore-sama now," Atobe snapped, flicking his menu in front of him.

"Okay," Yuuta said, and dipped his head, raising his menu up so he could hide behind it.

Atobe shot him a withering glare, though it didn't really have any effect because Yuuta wasn't looking at him at all, and he felt silly glaring at the menu.

He was sure people were looking at them, and not for the right reasons at all.

A moment later, Yuuta raised his head again.

Atobe raised an eyebrow at Yuuta's expression.

He was looking rather sheepish now, and Atobe hoped it was because he'd realised the error of his ways and was about to apologise.

On his knees.

"Um…" Yuuta began, and Atobe placed his hands in front of him on the table.

"Yes, Yuuta?"

Yuuta's cheeks were turning pink.

"What?"

"Er… Well, I can't…"

"You can't what?"

"I can't read the menu."

Atobe stared at his dinner companion for a moment and wondered what on earth had compelled him to ask Fuji Yuuta to dinner for a second time.

"What? They don't teach you German at St Rudolph either?"

Yuuta rubbed his head, eyes avoiding meeting Atobe's. "No… Not really."

Atobe gave a dramatic sigh and tapped his finger on his menu.

"I'm only going to say it once," he warned, watching Yuuta perk up.

Atobe cleared his throat and began at the top.

(S)

By the time Atobe had finished, Yuuta wanted to skip the entrées and mains and go straight to dessert. He couldn't actually remember anything other than the Apple Strudel anyway, but at least there were no snails here.

Austrian cuisine was apparently _edible_.

"Yuuta."

"Huh?"

"I asked you," Atobe repeated, "if you're ready to order."

Yuuta looked around and noticed a waiter hovering a few tables away and watching them.

He gave a nod, and suddenly felt really, really glad Atobe hadn't called the waiter over to read the menu this time.

Atobe hadn't actually had to do that himself, Yuuta realised, propping his chin on his hand and looking away from the other boy.

Actually…

Really…

"I'll take that as a yes," Atobe sighed, and Yuuta snapped back to reality, immediately removing his elbow from the table – Yumiko would tell him off if she could see him – and nodding.

Then, before the waiter came over, he bowed his head.

"Th – Thank you for reading the menu for me… Atobe-san."

Atobe felt surprised for a moment, a strange little thrill going through him as he heard his name from Yuuta's lips.

As Yuuta looked up again, Atobe quickly looked away, waving the waiter over.

(S)

"Um… Are you okay?" Yuuta asked awkwardly, fiddling with his fork as the waiter left a moment later.

Atobe looked at him quickly, confused. Why wouldn't he be okay?

"It's just… I mean, from here, it looks like your face is… kind of red," Yuuta stumbled out, embarrassed enough to put his arm behind his head and laugh a little.

"Well it's not," Atobe returned quickly. Then, for good measure, he added "You should get your eyes checked."

Still, he self consciously risked a glance in the window's reflection and was horrified to realise Yuuta was right.

Apparently blushes were catching.

.tbc.


	9. Chapter 9

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D Thank you kindly to aynon and Lady Tenebrae again and thank you to Ria Sakazaki :D I hope you all continue to enjoy the story.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 9

By Miki

Yuuta peered around the end of the aisle. 

The library was busy this afternoon; children running from end to end and people shuffling down every aisle.

The white fluorescent lights overhead and the yellow sunshine streaming through the small windows made people's faces appear funny shades of colour, and he had to squint against the light to see who was standing in the English section.

Not seeing any noticeable heads of grey hair, Yuuta wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

He walked down the aisle to the middle and looked at the titles of the books on the shelves and wondered if he could actually read any of them.

It wasn't that his English was terrible – well, it wasn't as good as his brother's, and it wasn't as good as Mizuki's – but the threat of having to give up club activities if his grades dropped was a scary thought.

Thinking about what Mizuki would do to him if he let his grades drop and had to give up club activities was even scarier.

(S)

Atobe walked through the English section of the library, glancing down each of the aisles until he reached the small fiction section.

He recognised Yuuta easily.

The St Rudolph's uniform stood out like a sore thumb among the other public school uniforms, and Atobe's eyes were immediately drawn to it.

Whoever thought brown was a flattering colour had been sadly mistaken, he reflected, although he had to admit that Rikkaidai might possibly have an uglier uniform yet. (Yellow being rather unflattering on just about everyone.)

Sneaking up on Yuuta wasn't hard. Atobe really hadn't been trying, and Yuuta still jumped when he realised there was someone right behind him.

He smirked with satisfaction as Yuuta turned around and scowled at him.

"A-Atobe-san? What are _you_ doing here?"

Atobe picked a book up off the shelf and flicked through it, pausing in giving his reply.

"We're in a library, Yuuta. What does it look like I'm doing?"

Yuuta gave a shrug and a bit of a scowl in response, turning the pages of the book he was holding.

"What are _you_ doing?" Atobe returned, feigning interest in his book as well.

Unfortunately, he'd managed to pick up a rather boring book. Romances weren't his thing after all, especially not when they measured six hundred pages and weighed about a kilogram.

Yuuta closed his book and pushed it back onto the shelf, squeezing it in between two other large books. "I have to read… more…" he grumbled out, not sounding very happy about it.

"You mean for English?" Atobe clarified, taking his chance to shove his book back on the shelf as well.

Yuuta gave a nod, looking across at him. "I'm pretty bad at vocabulary… Saga-sensei said we should be trying to read a book every fortnight, but it's pretty hard."

Atobe perused the titles on the shelf. He could sympathise with Yuuta on that point.

He had no particular qualms about English, but for someone like Yuuta, he imagined it was harder than it sounded to keep up with a regime like that. A book every fortnight was okay if it was written in Japanese, but to have to read a book in English was time-consuming, and if Yuuta's club activities were anything like Hyotei's, then he probably didn't have much spare time.

Yuuta squatted down on the floor, peering at the titles on the lower shelves.

Atobe watched him for a moment and sighed.

Clearly Yuuta would need some help. He didn't really give the impression he was competent enough to tell the difference in standard between the books, and he'd probably end up picking out Tolstoy's _War and Peace_ if Atobe left him to it.

As it was, a couple titles caught his eye, and he picked out one. It was Bernhard Schlink's _The Reader_, an easy book if he remembered correctly.

"Here," he said, waiting for Yuuta to look up at him before he dropped the book rather nonchalantly.

The book hit Yuuta on the head.

"Ow," he yelped, though Atobe was sure it was more of an automatic reaction than anything else.

If Yuuta thought that book hurt, there was always the complete collection of Jane Austen's works sitting on the shelf to the left.

_That_ book wasn't even a paperback.

"What's this?" Yuuta asked, flicking awkwardly through the book, now that he'd stopped rubbing his head.

Atobe leaned back against the bookshelf and crossed his arms, regarding Yuuta's position on the floor.

"It's a book, clearly," he began, finding it amusing to tease Yuuta.

Yuuta returned Atobe's comment with a blank stare, waiting for the rest of the explanation.

"You might not like the look of it," Atobe continued, giving a roll of his eyes, "but it's a straight forward book to read."

Yuuta looked at the book doubtfully, a frown on his face.

"Easier grammar and vocabulary than Miller anyway," Atobe finished off. "And you won't have to ask Mizuki to read the whole thing to you."

"I didn't _ask_ Mizuki last time," Yuuta protested, getting up off the floor. "He just came in and wouldn't leave me alone after that."

Atobe watched Yuuta out of the corner of his eyes, pushing himself off the shelf and turning around to run his hands over the tops of the books.

Hearing Yuuta mention Mizuki's name put him in a bad mood.

Yuuta always made it sound as though he and Mizuki were joined at the hip, and it was starting to annoy Atobe.

Yuuta ought to know by now that there were more important people around than Mizuki. Mizuki was not the _only_ person in existence and quite frankly, if it weren't for the fact that he was Yuuta's manager and seemed to like putting a leash – or a hand, as it were – on him, Atobe wouldn't even have bothered paying him a second glance.

Thinking about Mizuki made him feel annoyed.

_Mizuki_ annoyed him.

"Are you going home now?" Yuuta asked, snapping Atobe out of his thoughts of Mizuki.

Atobe checked his watch and shook his head.

"Actually I'm thinking of going to see a movie."

"Oh," Yuuta said, and Atobe sighed, wondering if he had to spell absolutely everything out.

"You-"

"Ca-"

They both spoke at the same time.

"After you."

"Oh, well, are you going by yourself?" Yuuta asked, fingering the book in his hand.

Atobe tried to look thoughtful. "Well, I was going to, but you're welcome to join me if you'd like."

Yuuta hesitated, wavering between saying yes and saying no.

For the moment, the no side was winning. It would be easier just to go back to the dorms and do his homework. If he didn't go back, Mizuki would probably wonder where he'd gone, and he'd miss dinner if he stayed with Atobe and went to the movies.

Not that dinner was looking good at the moment.

Rumour had it, it would be something awful tonight.

Atobe flicked his hair and gave Yuuta an impatient look. "Well?" he demanded.

He felt oddly jittery, and the fact that Yuuta wasn't saying yes or no was really bothering him.

Who was he to keep Ore-sama waiting?

"Okay," he said finally, and Atobe let out an exasperated breath.

"Was it really that hard a decision to make?" he complained as he led the way to the checkout desk.

"I want to stop by McDonalds first," Yuuta said, following Atobe.

Atobe turned around, frowning. "Why?"

"Because I'm hungry."

"Well, be hungry for something else then," Atobe demanded, and Yuuta rolled his eyes.

"Like what?"

"I would hardly call McDonalds _food_. Anything else would be preferable."

Atobe considered. If they hurried up, they could probably fit in at least one main at a decent restaurant, although they might have to wait a little while. Failing that, there were always chocolate bars and popcorn at the candy bars at the movie theatre. Of course, he'd always be the first to say that chocolate was hardly a meal unless it was Belgian, but he supposed he could make an exception.

As if on cue, Yuuta's stomach rumbled.

"Oh fine," Atobe conceded, put out. "But I'm not coming in with you."

(S)

Atobe didn't like to eat his words.

He didn't like to eat McDonalds either.

"You know, if you eat any more slowly, we'll be here all night."

Yuuta shrugged. "Eat the fries if you're hungry. That way it'll take less time."

Atobe frowned and eyed Yuuta's fries.

They looked surprisingly edible, and Atobe made an effort to look away, ignoring Yuuta as he took a large bite of his burger.

"Sure?" Yuuta asked, and pushed the tray to the middle of the table.

"Of course," Atobe said, rolling his eyes. "Ore-sama doesn't eat second-rate junk food."

Yuuta stared back.

"So… Do you eat first-rate junk food then?"

"No."

Yuuta shrugged. "Whatever."

Personally, he couldn't see Atobe's problem. Food was food, most of the time. (Snails and other slimy garden-dwellers excepted.)

Atobe looked really uncomfortable sitting in his metal chair, and he was keeping his hands away from the table as though he'd catch something if he touched the surface.

Yuuta took another big bite of his burger as he watched him, resigned to the fact he'd probably be dragged out of here before he'd finished off his fries anyway.

Hyotei students were weird.

It was like they came from another world entirely.

He was nearly finished his burger when he looked down and realised half the packet of fries had disappeared.

Yuuta blinked.

(S)

Yuuta swung his legs out of the limousine, and stood up, contentedly stretching.

He ducked his head back in, to thank Atobe, when he realised the other boy was getting out as well.

"Shouldn't you go home?" Yuuta asked, aware that it was quite late, especially since they both had school the next day.

"Of course," Atobe responded smoothly, brushing a strand of hair from his eyes.

The movie had turned out to be more than two hours long, and sometime around the one-hour mark, Atobe had realised Yuuta probably hadn't had permission to stay out of the dormitory past dinner time.

"Er… Well, thanks for the movie, Atobe-san." Yuuta bowed his head.

Atobe didn't say anything in reply, and Yuuta awkwardly turned toward the dormitory building, waving his hand over his shoulder. "Night."

He walked up to the entrance of the building, feeling a lot more peaceful than he'd felt in a long time.

He realised he was probably going to get some sort of punishment for staying out past the curfew time, but he really didn't care.

It was weird, he realised.

He and Atobe had almost nothing in common, but Yuuta was starting to wonder if it wasn't more fun that way.

Apart from his brother and sometimes Saeki, he hardly hung out with friends from other schools. Maybe that was why he didn't mind Atobe so much anymore.

"Are you going to go in, or are you just going to stand here?" a voice asked from behind him, and Yuuta startled, turning around.

Atobe stood with his arms crossed, giving him a rather expectant look.

"Aren't you going home yet?" Yuuta asked, peering around him at the limousine that was still parked.

Atobe rolled his eyes. "Of course, but like I said, I'm escorting you to the door first."

Yuuta blinked and took a few steps experimentally, until he was almost at the doors of the building.

Atobe followed him.

"Why?" Yuuta asked, rather bluntly.

Atobe arched an eyebrow and stared at Yuuta, as though challenging him. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Only people on dates," Yuuta pointed out. "I'm not a _girl_, you know."

Atobe snorted. "Of course I know. A _girl_ wouldn't be so ugly."

"A _girl_ wouldn't be able to stand you like this."

"Well then she's be a girl with poor judgement and bad taste, and I don't like them," Atobe huffed.

Yuuta rolled his eyes and walked through the doors.

"By the way," he said before Atobe turned to leave. "I'm free on Sunday."

Atobe gave a nod, putting his hands in his pockets as he turned and walked back to the limousine.

He really couldn't understand why, but he was starting to think that maybe there was something about Fuji Yuuta after all.

He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

(S)

Yuuta couldn't sleep.

He'd rolled around so much trying to fall asleep that the sheets had been tugged from the sides of the mattress and had tangled around his limbs uncomfortably.

So he lay still, and stared up into the darkness of the room.

He could hear thumping in the room next to his, and somewhere else, he could hear someone's radio still on. Downstairs, he realised the office would be locked and the lights turned off, and he could hear a couple of bathroom doors opening and closing.

But none of that was what was keeping him awake.

He had no idea why, but suddenly Sunday felt like it was a long, long way away.

(S)

Yuuta didn't know it, but on the other side of town, Atobe was also lying awake. Of course, being Atobe, he hadn't tangled himself up in his sheets, but he was feeling just as restless.

The feeling of waiting for something just wouldn't leave him alone, and he eventually flicked on his bedside light and blinked hazily, wincing at the sudden brightness that filled his room.

He sat up and reached for his mobile, sitting on his bedside table.

It was after ten now, but Atobe figured that with all the sleep that Jirou got during the day, he could afford to sacrifice a little at night.

Atobe heard the dialtone for a moment or so, and then the click as Jirou picked up the call.

"Jirou, I want some advice."

.tbc.


	10. Chapter 10

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated but not necessary.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 10

By Miki

Ootori elbowed Shishido and nodded his head in the direction of the bench at the side of the court.

Shishido looked in the direction that Ootori was pointing, and blinked in surprise.

Jirou was sleeping.

On Kabaji.

"What do you-" Ootori began asking.

"No idea," Shishido answered quickly, eyebrow raised.

He was used to Jirou's habits; he slept 90 percent of the time Shishido saw him. It was amazing he managed not to fall asleep on court sometimes. Sleeping on Kabaji was just a variation of the usual sleeping on a bench.

Still, it was kind of…

They both watched as Jirou rolled onto his side, mouth opening.

"Don't you think we sh-"

"C'mon, hurry up," Shishido grumbled, ignoring Ootori's protests and tugging at his shirt roughly.

They didn't have that much time today, and he really wanted to get in a decent amount of practise with Ootori.

"Y-Yes, Shishido-senpai," Ootori answered quickly, casting a final glance back at Jirou and Kabaji as he followed Shishido to the free court.

He hoped nothing was wrong with Jirou. He'd looked quite pale this morning and he hadn't even perked up once practise had started.

Ootori wondered if he should ask Jirou about it later.

(S)

"How are you, Yuuta?" Fuji asked, one hand holding the telephone to his ear, the other flicking through a magazine.

"Fine," was the extent of Yuuta's response, and Fuji let the magazine go and sat down on his bed, feeling as though this was going to be a longer conversation than he'd anticipated.

"Just fine?" he enquired, willing his brother to elaborate.

Yuuta didn't though, repeated himself and then clearing his throat awkwardly. "Um… Why are you calling, Aniki?"

"I only have one brother, Yuuta. I need to make sure you're in perfect working order," Fuji smiled.

"Er…"

"I hope Mizuki's treating you well."

Yuuta thought back over the week's events and decided Aniki didn't need to hear about any of them.

And definitely nothing involving boxers.

"Same as usual," he replied gruffly, restless and hoping to finish the call quickly.

Fuji frowned. "Is he still wearing those purple shirts?"

Yuuta opened his mouth. "Huh?"

"They're bad for your eyes, Yuuta. You should try to avoid looking directly at them or you'll be exposed to bad taste."

Yuuta stared at the wall, mouth open, eyebrows looking like something Picasso would be proud of. "Huh?"

Fuji elaborated. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to spend so much time with Mizuki, Yuuta. You might catch his bad habits."

Yuuta grimaced. "I don't. I mean, I don't have Mizuki-san's bad habits."

Fuji smiled, watching Yumiko duck her head in his doorway and signal to him.

Dinner was ready.

"What colour are your underpants today, Yuuta?" Fuji smiled.

"Purple," Yuuta answered without thought.

There was a long silence.

"Aniki," Yuuta frowned, as he realised what his brother had just asked.

"See what I mean, Yuuta?"

(S)

"Jirou," Ootori smiled, sitting down next to the sleeping lump and prodding his shoulder lightly.

Jirou gave a little snort and rolled over.

Ootori couldn't help but marvel at his skill in not rolling off the bench, though that didn't stop him from prodding the boy again.

It took a few minutes, but Jirou finally opened his eyes and stared blearily at Ootori.

"Hmmm?"

Ootori smiled, staring down at him.

"What time is it? Is it time to leave yet?" Jirou yawned, rubbing at his cheek.He'd been sleeping at a funny angle, and his neck felt like it had a kink in it now. He wasn't sure, but he felt like he had pressure marks on his face too.

Maybe that was why Ootori was looking at him so strangely.

"It's only four…" Ootori said, with a slight shake of his head.

Jirou nodded and sat up with a little difficulty, swinging his legs over the side of the bench to slump forwards.

There was a kink in his back too.

"Are you okay?"

Jirou blinked, and gave a confused nod. "Am I not okay?"

"You seem really tired today," Ootori explained, and fiddled with his water bottle in his hands. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Jirou stretched, arching his back.

The kink was still there.

Ootori waited for a moment, but there was no reply.

"You don't have to," he smiled. "If you want to, I mean…"

There was definitely something funny about Jirou lately. Come to think of it, there was something funny about Atobe too.

Ootori took a sip of his water and was about to stand up when Jirou tugged on his shirt and pointed to the middle of his back.

"Er…"

"Right there," Jirou grimaced, and Ootori blinked. Jirou still looked half-asleep, and his half-asleep-rambles tended to be incoherent.

"Er… what's right here?" he asked, putting a hand on Jirou's back where he pointed.

"… in my back… press…" Jirou mumbled, and Ootori had to lean down to hear the words, having no idea what Jirou was on about or if it was even supposed to make sense.

Five minutes later, the kink in Jirou's back removed after convincing Ootori to push on his back rather hard, Jirou was rambling again.

Ootori realised he'd said that Jirou could talk to him, but this wasn't quite what he'd imagined.

"… And then he said that he might just like the cheese, and I asked him which cheese he liked, because the last time we went out, he ordered the cheese platter, you know, and he left the fetta and he said the blue cheese was too sharp, and he said he wasn't talking about that sort of cheese. But then, if he wasn't talking about that sort of cheese, I don't know which sort of cheese he was talking about… I thought Atobe liked French cheese, but he said it wasn't French cheese; it was Japanese, and I said that Japan didn't make that sort of cheese, and he said it did, and that it didn't matter where it was made because he didn't want to think about it, and then after that he started talking about rats instead…"

Jirou paused and looked at Ootori, who nodded.

Nodding was good. It meant he was listening.

"I didn't think Atobe liked rats either, and he said he didn't, so I was right. But then he kept talking about this one rat who liked the cheese he liked, and I asked him which cheese again, because it's really confusing talking to Atobe about cheese… Lately he's been talking about cheese a lot…"

Jirou slumped down, staring dolefully across at the courts. Tonight he'd have to remember to turn off his mobile before he went to bed. All this thinking about cheese and mice was tiring him out, and he really wished Ootori had a solution.

Ootori usually knew what to do about these things.

"After that I couldn't sleep," Jirou finished, yawning again and sitting up again. "I don't like rats much…"

Ootori nodded.

"What do you think?"

Ootori nodded.

(S)

Atobe sighed as he looked over his homework.

It was rather annoying that Kabaji wasn't here. As a result, Atobe had had to write his essay himself – he'd much rather have dictated it and have Kabaji give his hand a workout – and now his wrist was sore.

It was all fine and well to have a tired wrist after a round of tennis, but having a tired wrist after a round of modern history was rather displeasing, and made him think he ought to point out to his teacher that not everyone had hours a day to slave over these sorts of trifling things.

His mood probably wasn't helped at all by the fact that he'd been contemplating telephoning Yuuta and still hadn't, not even after staring at his phone on and off for about an hour.

Jirou's advice had been odd, to say the least.

Of course, he knew that it was probably silly of him to insist on relating Yuuta to a block of supermarket cheddar and Fuji to a mouse. It probably wasn't a great idea to relate Mizuki to a rat either, because Jirou apparently didn't like rats and hadn't been very useful on the subject.

It would have made more sense to explain everything to Jirou as it actually was. But Atobe didn't want to do that. For some reason, it would make things feel… _different_.

He didn't know _how_, but it would.

Flipping his phone over on his desk, Atobe glanced at the screen. He'd already decided he wouldn't call Yuuta until at least Saturday, he reminded himself. But then again, if he waited until Saturday and then called, Yuuta might have already made plans with Mizuki…

Atobe sat back in his chair, putting his fingers to his forehead.

That wouldn't do. Yuuta wouldn't forget about seeing him on Sunday, and if he had, then he'd make time for him. Ore-sama was more important than Mizuki, after all. Yuuta would have to be stupid to choose Mizuki over him.

Atobe smirked, realising that he had to be right. There was no way Yuuta would forget they already had plans for Sunday. Satisfied, he picked up his history homework and stacked it, pulling out his English textbook instead.

A moment later, he shut his textbook and stared determinedly at his telephone.

When he thought about it, he actually wasn't entirely sure that they'd reached a concensus about Sunday. Yuuta had said he was free, and Atobe had said… What had he said? He couldn't remember anymore. It was always possible that Yuuta hadn't thought any more of it…

Atobe twitched, eyeing his telephone again.

This was just getting ridiculous, he told himself, annoyed that he was letting something so trivial distract him.

He didn't have time to act like this. He was wasting his time, and he was sure if he just phoned, he'd find out it was all for nothing.

(S)

Yuuta tossed his phone in the air and caught it.

He should really call Atobe.

But he didn't really want to.

He sighed, tossing the phone again, carelessly catching it and tossing it back up with a flick of his wrist.

Maybe if he dropped it, he'd have an excuse then.

Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch.

"Yuuta?"

Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch.

"Yuuta?"

"Huh?"

Akazawa looked down at him. "What are you doing there?" he asked, obviously referring to Yuuta's position on the ground.

"Er… Thinking…" Yuuta answered, and shoved his phone into his pocket.

Akazawa shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall next to Yuuta.

"Want to talk?"

Yuuta shook his head.

"It doesn't have something to do with Atobe… does it?"

"What?" Yuuta looked up at him so quickly, he nearly hit his head on the concrete wall.

Akazawa gave a wry smile. "I thought so."

(S)

"Atobe."

"Um… Atobe-san…"

Atobe held his phone away from his ear for a moment, staring at the number on the screen.

"Yuuta," he scolded, putting the phone back to his ear, "hasn't anyone ever told you how to talk on the phone properly?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment, and Atobe imagined Yuuta was frowning.

"Look, you don't have to sulk over it," Atobe drawled, leaning back in his chair. "I'm telling you for future reference."

"I'm not sulking," Yuuta insisted.

There was an awkward silence for a moment as Atobe waited and Yuuta hesitated.

"Well anyway, I'm glad you called. I was about to phone you about Sunday."

Yuuta still didn't reply, and Atobe frowned.

That fluttery feeling was returning to his chest, and he didn't like it. He tapped his fingers on the desk, drumming them on the thick wooden surface in an effort to ignore the feeling in his chest.

"Mm… Well… The thing is…" Yuuta blurted out, sounding like he had something to say and didn't know how to say it.

Atobe's fingers paused in their movements.

Something about Yuuta's voice told him he wasn't going to like what he was going to say.

"Actually…"

"What?"

"I can't meet you on Sunday," Yuuta blurted out.

Atobe stared blankly at his wall for a moment, his mind taking a moment to process Yuuta's words.

Couldn't meet him on Sunday? What was Yuuta talking about? "What do you mean, you can't meet on Sunday?" he demanded quickly, his fingers resuming their nervous tapping on the desk.

"I have to go home."

Atobe frowned and picked up his pen, flicking it back and forth between his fingers again. "But you-"

"I wasn't going to," Yuuta explained, "but I haven't been home much lately… and anyway, I'll be back on Monday."

"Can't you-"

"Sorry…" Yuuta cut him off, leaving Atobe no room to argue.

He flicked his pen irritably, not knowing what to say.

Both boys were silent for a moment, and when Yuuta spoke again, he sounded hesitant.

"Um… If it's okay-"

"It's fine," Atobe snapped, and then slumped. He put his hand to his face, leaning his elbow on the desk and closing his eyes.

He hadn't meant to do that.

"Well… Okay," Yuuta mumbled awkwardly.

Atobe heard him saying his goodbye and then heard the clack of the phone call being cut off. He put down his phone on his desk, and ran both his hands through his hair, flopping back against his chair.

He hadn't meant to snap. But what was Yuuta doing going home when they'd he'd already said he was free on Sunday? Atobe stood up from his chair, a feeling of annoyance and restlessness filling him.

He'd been waiting all week for Sunday, and now it wasn't going to happen.

(S)

"Atobe?" Jirou yawned. "If this is about rats again, I don't-"

"It's not," Atobe snapped, and Jirou blinked.

"It's… not?"

"I…" Atobe hesitated. He hadn't actually thought about what he wanted to talk to Jirou about before he'd dialled the number.

It had been almost an automatic response, and now that he realised it, it was rather a scary thought.

"Atobe? Are you okay?" Jirou asked quietly.

"Of course," came Atobe's typical response, and Jirou sighed.

It sounded as though Atobe was in a bad mood, and really, it wasn't fun to talk to people when they were in bad moods.

"What are you doing?" he asked calmly.

When he was younger, he'd learnt that he usually needed to get his mind off whatever he was annoyed about before he could think clearly again. Counselling aggravated tennis captains wasn't really on his resume, but he was starting to think it should be.

"I'm in the bath actually."

Jirou blinked. "Oh. Are you having fun?"

Atobe frowned. Of course he wasn't having fun. He wasn't in the bath because he wanted a bath. He was in the bath because it was better than being in his room and thinking aggravating thoughts.

Jirou took Atobe's silence for a 'no'.

"Do you… want to talk about it?"

Atobe flicked his finger at a large mound of bubbles.

"No."

"Oh…"

"Well, yes, of course I want to talk about it," Atobe snapped suddenly, surprising Jirou. "Isn't that what telephones are for?"

"Okay…" Jirou blinked. "I'm listening."

Atobe brought his knees up to his chest and sat still.

"Is it about the cheese?"

Atobe smiled a little. He put his hand to his head as he imagined the expression on Jirou's face.

Honestly, the boy could be so silly sometimes.

Atobe didn't know whether it was because he slept so much that he didn't absorb the things that happened around him, but sometimes he really seemed as though he was entirely disconnected from reality.

"There is no cheese."

"What do you mean, there is no cheese?"

"I mean exactly what I say, Jirou. There is no cheese." Atobe repeated.

"Oh."

(S)

"Yuuta?"

Mizuki opened the door and walked into Yuuta's room, blinking at the mess he encountered. Yuuta was sprawled across his bed, his books dropped on the floor next to him and his desk scattered with papers. He held an English book in his hand, though he didn't seem to be reading it.

"You know it's dinner time, don't you?" Mizuki demanded, annoyed he'd had to come and fetch Yuuta.

He couldn't let his players skip meals though. Sustenance was essential for growing bodies.

"Yeah," Yuuta mumbled and turned his head to face Mizuki.

Mizuki looked at Yuuta's bedside table, and realised he still hadn't replaced his clock. He supposed it was possible to get by without one, since Yuuta did have a mobile, and on occasion, Mizuki had seen him wear a watch which meant that he did own one.

But lately Yuuta had been late and early for all sorts of things. Dinner today wasn't the first time this week that Yuuta had nearly missed a meal.

It made Mizuki think there was something else bothering Yuuta apart from his lack of alarm clock.

"Well hurry up then," Mizuki said, shaking his head and walking back toward the door. "Akazawa was asking about you before."

"He was?" Yuuta asked anxiously, sitting up quickly.

"He said you'd asked him about leaving early on Saturday."

Yuuta looked away guiltily.

"I don't suppose you want to leave early because you're going home to see your brother," Mizuki asked, watching Yuuta through narrowed eyes.

"Er… Well, that was the plan…" Yuuta admitted. "Nee-san asked me…"

Mizuki suddenly smiled, walking back across to the bed and standing in front of Yuuta.

Yuuta cringed.

Mizuki's hair smelt like lemon detergent.

_Lemon fresh dishwashing_ detergent.

"Yuuta."

"Mizuki-san?"

"Why is it that you've never once invited me to your house?"

"Mizuki-san…" Yuuta smiled awkwardly. "Why would I…?" He trailed off, feeling like it was unwise to say exactly what he was thinking.

"_Because_," Mizuki chuckled, "I'm your one and only manager, Yuuta. Don't you feel it would be beneficial for me to get to know your home environment _intimately_?"

"How… How _intimately_ do you mean?"

(S)

Atobe felt like a prune. He _looked_ like a prune too, so it was lucky that there was no one around to see him.

He felt as though he'd taken a week's worth of baths all at once, and certainly he'd been in there long enough for that.

His homework sat unfinished on his desk, and he dropped his phone on top of it, not caring what his teachers were going to say tomorrow.

The bad aftertaste of his disagreement with Yuuta still remained, but at least he'd decided already what he was going to do about it.

Now he just had to decide what he was going to wear.

Life was full of tough decisions.

.tbc.


	11. Chapter 11

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 11

By Miki

Fuji Yumiko was indeed a creature of grace and beauty, Mizuki reflected. 

Her skirt bunched around her hips as she sat, and the small crinkles in the material only served to increase Mizuki's resolution to find out what was underneath.

Yuuta, of course, would always be his favourite Fuji, but there was no harm in paying attention to his sister while he was here. Clearly Yuuta was never going to look quite as good in a skirt and blouse, so Mizuki was rather determined to savour the occasion while he could.  
He was currently sitting next to Yuuta on the sofa, and Yumiko sat on the chair opposite them.

She'd fussed over Yuuta when they'd sat down, but now she seemed happy enough to sit opposite him. Mizuki couldn't help but notice that her position allowed her to study them both rather carefully, and he'd been preening himself appropriately. He wanted to give her the best possible impression of himself, after all.

Yuuta, in any case, was acting like a wet blanket, and frowning.

Mizuki didn't think it had anything to do with the subject matter of his current conversation. It was just that Yuuta was frowning most of the time he was awake.

"Purple really brings out your cheekbones," Yumiko smiled, and took a sip of her tea.

Yuuta sunk lower into the sofa. He had no idea how _purple_ of all colours could bring out anyone's cheekbones, but Mizuki was wearing a lot of it, and so was Yumiko.

"Why thank you," Mizuki practically purred back, the curl of his lips enough to give Yuuta the creeps and make him inch just a little further from his manager. "I rather like this shirt, although it is last season…"

He rather loathed mentioning the fact that the shirt was last season, but he was sure Yumiko was the sort of woman who paid attention to that sort of thing, and he didn't want her to think he didn't know it already. Admitting he had given in to a petty whim to wear an out-of-date shirt was much less a sin than being ignorant…

Yumiko's eyes twinkled.

"Yuuta," she smiled, "isn't that shirt the same one you were wearing the last time you came home? Perhaps you could ask Mizuki to take you shopping."

"What? Why?" Yuuta asked quickly, grabbing the hem of his shirt just in case Mizuki suddenly decided to pull it off.

Yumiko laughed. "Well it seems such a shame. You have such a kind friend who, I'm sure, would be willing to impart his advice and expertise, and you're not taking advantage of it."

"Huh?"

Mizuki was positively beaming.

Yuuta thought he was going to be sick. Yumiko-nee-san was too much sometimes. She was buttering up Mizuki and he wasn't even noticing.

"What a good idea, Yuuta," Mizuki chuckled and twirled a strand of hair. "Since we have time tomorrow morning, why don't we go?"

"No!" Yuuta shook his head quickly. "I mean, I thought you wanted to get to know the… er… house!"

Mizuki blinked. "That's right; I haven't begun my investigation yet."

He was glad Yuuta had reminded him. He'd nearly forgotten all about it, such were Yumiko's charms.

Yuuta cringed.

"Yuuta, where's that notepad you had before? I'll dictate."

Yumiko could barely hide her amusement behind her teacup, her lips curled and her eyes closed. When Syuusuke had started complaining to her about Mizuki, she'd thought it amusing, but that was nothing compared to the real thing.

The real thing was curly-haired, wore purple and said "nfu."

Clearly though, Yuuta didn't appreciate his manager's more amusing characteristics, and Yumiko wondered if she should rescue him from the mess she'd put him in.

"Didn't I teach you to wipe your shoes at the door, Yuuta?"

Yumiko looked up at the familiar voice and was almost surprised to see her brother standing beside the sofa. He was giving Mizuki a positively terrifying look, although Mizuki didn't actually have the sense to be scared. Anyone else might have already started running for the hills by now. It was always useful to have a head start on Fuji Syuusuke.

"Aniki!" Yuuta looked up, tensing.

"No one likes dirt in the house…" Fuji frowned. "Especially not on the furniture."

Yuuta gulped. "Aniki…"

Mizuki forced a smile. "Fuji, how nice to see you again."

"The feeling's not mutual," Fuji returned, placing himself on the sofa next to Yuuta. One hand latched on to Yuuta's wrist as he smiled across at Mizuki.

"Aniki…" Yuuta questioned, looking down at the hand. A feeling of dread was stirring inside him.

"I never did think you had enough taste to appreciate the finer things in life," Mizuki declared. "I'm almost sorry to see I was right."

Yuuta felt another hand latching on to his other wrist, and he looked down again.

"Mi-Mizuki-san…"

"Yes, Yuuta-kun?" Mizuki purred, and Yuuta shrunk back into the sofa.

"Er… Well… I need to go to the bathroom so maybe you could… let go of me?"

Mizuki shook his head. He wasn't about to be out-gripped by Fuji. "I'll escort you there then."

Yuuta stared at him as though he'd lost his head, mouth agape. "I don't need to be escorted to my own bathroom, Mizuki-san," he managed to grit out.

"Exactly," Fuji smiled. "That's my job."

Yuuta spluttered, his face turning a bright shade of read. "Aniki!"

"Yes, Yuuta?" Fuji smiled.

Yuuta scowled, unhappily trying to stand up. His brother was so infuriating! He said the most perverted things with that stupid smile on his face! And he didn't even care who else heard it! Fighting against Mizuki's and Fuji's grips was impossible though, and Yuuta dropped back onto the sofa, huffing.

"Yuuta's right," Mizuki said suddenly, changing his mind. "Yuuta's not a child and he doesn't need you to hold his hand."

Fuji refrained from pointing out that Mizuki clearly didn't know his anatomy. He was holding Yuuta's wrist.

"But I can hold other things," he smiled.

It took a moment for his words to sink in to Yuuta's head.

"Baka Aniki! What are you talking about?"

Mizuki looked disgusted. "I'd have thought toilet humour was beneath you."

"Oh, I wasn't joking." Fuji tightened his grip on Yuuta and smiled.

"I was being perfectly serious."

(S)

"Good morning Yuuta," Yumiko smiled.

Yuuta grunted in response and dropped into his chair, slumped inelegantly with his legs spread.

"Did you sleep well?"

Yuuta looked across at his brother and yawned.

"I think that's a no," Yumiko smiled, sipping her coffee and watching her two brothers with amusement.

"I wouldn't sleep well with Mizuki either," Fuji smiled.

Yumiko raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought you'd have slept with Mizuki at all."

Fuji smiled and said nothing.

"Is he still asleep?" Yumiko asked.

Yuuta nodded and closed his eyes.

Yumiko took another sip of her coffee, thinking things over.

It was quiet outside, reminding her how early it actually was. Yuuta and Syuusuke had always been early risers when they were younger, and she wondered whether they'd both kept it up out of habit or necessity.

With Yuuta, she suspected, it was the latter. Mizuki didn't look like a very forgiving manager.

"Yuuta?"

"He's asleep," Fuji answered.

Yumiko looked across and sighed.

(S)

Lunch wasn't such a quiet affair.

Five minutes in to the meal, Mizuki dropped his spoon and looked thoroughly embarrassed enough to duck under the table to retrieve it. He was lucky enough to catch a glimpse up Yumiko's skirt as he did so. But he was also unlucky enough that Fuji's foot landed squarely on his face, putting a rather violent kink in his neck.

Sitting back up again, Mizuki glared across at Fuji.

Fuji only smiled back. "Is there something wrong with your neck, Mizuki? You look as though you're in pain."

Mizuki grit his teeth.

"You know, I'm good at giving massages, if you'd like one after lunch," Fuji offered.

Yuuta suddenly had visions of his brother snapping Mizuki's neck right off.

"I don't… I don't think that sounds like a good idea," he mumbled out, taking a hurried sip of his tea.

"Why would you say that?" his mother asked, looking at him curiously.

"Oh, well… I don't think we have time for that."

"You usually stay until the afternoon though, Yuuta," Yoshiko frowned, looking worried. "You're not falling behind in your school work, are you?"

"Mizuki looks after him, I'm sure," Yumiko smiled, and Yuuta caught the look that passed between his sister and brother.

He scowled at them both, wishing they were anywhere but at home at the table with his _mother_.

"Jealous, Yuuta?" Fuji asked quietly.

"No."

"Are you sure? If you wanted me to do you, then you could have just asked."

"Aniki!" Yuuta snapped, earning him a raised eyebrow from his mother and a snigger from Yumiko. He kicked his brother's leg under the table.

"So, Mizuki-kun, do you have plans for this afternoon?" Yoshiko asked happily. "You know, this is the first time in a long while that Yuuta's brought a friend home, so it would be nice if you could stay with us for the rest of the day."

Yuuta frowned. There was a reason he didn't bring friends home from school.

Mizuki beamed. "Thank you, but I'm afraid Yuuta and I should probably return to school soon. We have a lot of training to catch up on."

Under the table, something hit Yuuta on the knee and he only just caught himself before he yelled.

Fuji smiled across at him. "Like I said before, you're welcome to a massage any time. I'll be happy to practise on you."

Yuuta kicked him again.

Baka Aniki. He definitely wasn't going to take his brother up on that offer.

(S)

Advice was a silly thing, Atobe thought.

He raised his hand and rang the doorbell of the Fuji household, glancing back at the limousine and wondering if it wasn't too late to back out of this. Advice was silly, because one could receive absolutely copious amounts of it without ever knowing whether it was useful or not until it was tested, and Atobe had never liked being a test subject.

He waited impatiently for a minute, watching the second hand ticking around on his watch.

There was no answer, so he rang the doorbell again.

People ought not to keep guests waiting like this. It was incredibly rude, really.

Annoyed, Atobe was about to ring the doorbell a third time when someone spoke his name behind him.

"Atobe!"

He whirled around quickly, surprised to see Yuuta standing there.

"Yuuta, what are you doing here?"

Yuuta gave a nervous smile. "Shouldn't I be the one asking that?"

Atobe raised an eyebrow.

"Or… not…" Yuuta corrected, feeling odd. Sometimes Atobe had a way of commandeering the conversation, and it was then that Yuuta remembered that they had a weird kind of… friendship…

"I came all this way to see you," Atobe scolded. "Shouldn't you have something nice to say to me?"

"To see… me?" Yuuta blinked.

Atobe rolled his eyes in impatience. "Well of course. Who else would I come to see?"

"I don't…" Yuuta stared at Atobe, recalling the first time Atobe had "dropped by" their house. It felt like a long time ago now and Yuuta wondered why.

"Well nevermind that. Are you going to open the door or are you going to stand and stare at it all day?" Atobe drawled, raising an eyebrow.

Yuuta blinked, ducking his head quickly and shuffling past Atobe to unlock the door with his key. He didn't know why but his face felt really hot now. His stomach felt funny too, like he'd had too much sugar. He'd only snuck in a couple of lollies on the way back from the supermarket, so it couldn't have been that, but he felt so…

Oh, his chest felt tight.

Trying to ignore the weird sensations running through him, he opened the door and stepped into the entrance hall. Atobe stepped in after him, looking around as though he hadn't been here before.

"Yuuta!" came his brother's sing-songy voice and for a moment Yuuta felt panicked. He had a sudden urge to just shove Atobe into the nearest cupboard, behind the nearest door even. Anything just so that his brother didn't see him.

He had no idea where the idea came from, but as soon as the thought had occurred in his head, his brother walked around the corner and smiled at him.

"Did you get lost, Yuuta?"

"Of course not," Yuuta scowled back, putting on his house slippers and getting out a spare pair for Atobe.

The silence told Yuuta he didn't have to look up to know that Atobe and Aniki were probably staring each other down. And then Yuuta heard the familiar sound of Mizuki's footsteps coming around the corner, and he really, really didn't want to look up at all. If there had been a hole in the ground, he would have happily jumped down it.

"Atobe."

Mizuki sounded shocked.

"Mizuki."

Atobe sounded… well, shocked wasn't quite the right word.

"Yuuta."

"Y-Yes?" Yuuta raised his head hesitantly, looking up at his brother.

"You didn't happen to find Atobe in the markdowns aisle, did you?"

Yuuta wasn't sure how to respond for a moment; the sudden impulse to tell his brother off was just a passing thought, but it was _there_, and it surprised him. He closed his mouth and shook his head, standing up, painfully aware of the uncomfortable silence that had developed.

He was sure his cheeks were red. They felt so hot… He felt hot all over.

"I never realised you were the persistent sort," Mizuki observed dryly.

Yuuta recognised the annoyance in his tone – really, it was pretty hard to miss – and shuddered, wishing Yumiko would come and rescue him.

"Dirt sticks," Fuji added; whether directed at Mizuki or Atobe, Yuuta wasn't sure. "I suppose you were just in the neighbourhood then, Atobe?"

"Actually, I invited him."

Both Mizuki and Fuji stared at Yuuta; Fuji's eyes wide open in surprise.

Yuuta blinked, wondering why he'd just lied. "I… I was going to have lunch with Atobe anyway…" he blurted out, hardly controlling the words coming out of his mouth.

Atobe hardly blinked at the lie though, and smirked, walking past the trio to step into the house properly. "It's rather rude to keep your important guests waiting like that, don't you think, Fuji?"

Fuji smiled. "What important guests?"

Atobe twitched.

Yuuta followed the trio into the lounge room, cheeks still feeling hot. That stupid topsy-turvy feeling was still there in his chest, and he tugged at his shirt. Maybe he was just hot.

"I notice you're making a habit of that," Mizuki said offhandedly, silently agreeing with Atobe.

Fuji Syuusuke had some awful manners.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fuji smiled back. "We haven't had any important guests here lately; only unwanted, uninvited ones."

Mizuki twitched.

Between Mizuki and Atobe, there was as much twitching as for a field full of rabbits.

"Yuuta? Is that you?" Yumiko walked into the doorway of the lounge and blinked at the addition to the group. Yuuta dreaded to think what was going through her head at that moment, and quickly blurted out the same excuse he'd told to Mizuki and Fuji just a moment before.

Luckily Yumiko didn't seem quite so bothered and simply ducked back into the kitchen, emerging a few seconds later with a tray. "Atobe, you're just in time for tea."

Yuuta half-expected his brother to say something then, but instead he simply took Yuuta's hand and pulled him over to the sofa, pushing him down and sitting next to him.

"Won't this be fun, Yuuta? Who would have thought our entertainment would be delivered straight to our front door?"

Yuuta cringed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering how he'd gotten himself into all of this. "Let go of my hand, Aniki."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Yuuta," Fuji smiled.

"I can't eat if you don't," Yuuta protested, trying to wriggle his hand out of his brother's.

His sister's blackberry pie sat in the centre of the tray; the only good part of sitting here with Aniki, Yumiko-nee-san, Atobe and Mizuki…

"Of course you can," Fuji responded. "You still have your left hand and I still have my right."

"But aniki…" Yuuta protested weakly. He wondered what Atobe was thinking. He didn't even want to know what Mizuki was thinking. Oh. This was so… Yuuta had no words for the embarrassment he felt.

And with that, Yuuta found himself having tea with Mizuki, Yumiko and Fuji for the second time in as many days. Only this time, it was Atobe who was sat down on his other side and Mizuki who sat next to Yumiko.

Somehow, that didn't make Yuuta feel any better.

.tbc.


	12. Chapter 12

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D Thank you to the lovely people who have left such nice reviews for the last few chapters XD They made me grin.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 12

By Miki

"Still wearing last season, huh?" 

Atobe smirked and sat back comfortably on the sofa. It went without saying that it was hardly as good as the ones he had at home, but that was to be expected. He'd also expected that Mizuki might have the sense not to wear the same out-of-date shirt he'd been wearing the last time Atobe had seen him, but apparently he didn't.

Mizuki pursed his lips, sitting back and crossing his legs as he regarded Atobe. "Likewise, I notice you're still wearing grey."

"It's natural," Atobe snapped back.

"Yes, we know," Fuji smiled. "No one would ever _want_ to have hair that colour anyway."

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "You know, I do believe I know what you're suffering from, Fuji Syuusuke."

"Hm? What's that?"

"Jealousy," Atobe replied simply.

Fuji opened his eyes and leaned forwards on his seat. He looked at Atobe carefully as the corners of his mouth turned down for a moment. "Why would you ever think that?"

Atobe frowned.

"Aniki," Yuuta said warningly, his hand instinctively holding his brother's tighter.

"Yes, Yuuta?" Fuji smiled. "Are you hungry? Shall I feed you some pie now?"

Yuuta sighed.

"Are you feeling okay, Yuuta? You look a little tense," Yumiko frowned. She leaned across to pass a cup of tea to Atobe and slid another across the table to Mizuki.

Yuuta didn't reply.

"Perhaps you should have that massage later," Fuji smiled. He picked up the knife on the table and carefully sliced a piece of Yumiko's pie, placing it on a plate.

"No, I don't think so…" Yuuta mumbled, hoping his brother would just leave this subject alone.

"Are you sure?" Fuji asked with amusement. "I've been practising a bit on Yumiko."

Yuuta looked across at his sister warily.

"Well, I'm sure your brother would like to try out his skills on you sometime," she smiled.

"I don't doubt it," Mizuki muttered, taking a sip of his tea. A second later, he pulled a face and stared at his cup as though there was something wrong with it.

Fuji leaned across, the knife still in his hand. "Something wrong, Mizuki?"

Mizuki coughed, eyeing Fuji suspiciously and shrinking back into his seat. "Did you by any chance put wasabi in this tea?"

Atobe blinked and looked at his cup with suspicion, wondering if it was possible Yumiko and Fuji were up to something together. He supposed he shouldn't put it past them. They weren't exactly wonderful hosts after all.

"Of course not," Fuji replied to Mizuki, never letting go of Yuuta's hand as he sliced the pie. "Would you like some blackberry pie? I can put wasabi in it if you'd like."

"Aniki, just hand over the pie," Yuuta demanded, scowling. "Mizuki doesn't have funny tastebuds like you do."

Fuji smiled. "Hm? Really? Have you inspected them for yourself Yuuta?"

"Huh?"

"Want to imspect mine, Yuuta? I think you'll find they're really no different to anyone else's."

Yuuta turned a bright shade of pink.

"No, I don't," he said as firmly as he could, trying to inch away from his brother on the sofa. He could only inch as far as Atobe though…

Atobe took a sniff of his cup while no one was looking. It didn't smell particularly suspicious, though he suspected this was the sort of tea that cost five hundred yen a box. Personally, he thought, if he'd realised he would be subject to cheap tea again, he would have brought some of his own. It was charitable, after all, to help those less fortunate and affluent than oneself.

It was rather too bad that that was most of the world's population.

Perhaps Mizuki was just being over sensitive, or perhaps he had defective taste buds. Commoners often suffered from that sort of ailment, he'd noticed. But nevertheless, Atobe only took the tiniest of sips, frowning a little at the taste of the murky brown liquid.

"Sugar?" Yumiko asked, smiling at him.

Atobe took the small pot before he'd thought about what he was doing.

"Mizuki," Fuji smiled, pushing another pot across the table towards the boy.

Mizuki raised one eyebrow rather suspiciously at Fuji, who merely smiled back. He opened the lid of the pot to find it contained sugar. It looked normal enough; white and granulated…

Yuuta blinked, momentarily wondering why there were two pots of sugar on the table.

"Aniki, why are-" he began, only to find himself with a mouth full of pie.

Fuji removed the fork from his brother's mouth and smiled. "Now now, Yuuta, don't talk with food in your mouth."

Atobe frowned into his tea and took another little sip. It was somewhat improved once the sugar masked the taste of the inferior tea leaves, although had it not been for Yuuta, Atobe wouldn't have to sit here and drink this horrid second-rate stuff anyway.

He supposed he could mark it down as an experience from which he could learn…

_Always bring your own tea when dining with commoners with bad taste. _

He sat back again and looked across at Mizuki. Quite frankly, he couldn't understand why Yuuta had told him he wasn't free to do anything when _Mizuki_ was here. The thought that Yuuta would turn him down for Mizuki really put him off, and he put down his teacup just as Mizuki picked his up.

"I really don't like having to drink sugar in my tea," he complained a little, frowning at Yuuta. "You ought to know which brand I drink, Yuuta."

Yuuta opened his mouth to speak and promptly found another piece of pie in it instead. He glared at his brother and tried to grumble through his mouthful of pie, but all that came out was an incoherent whine.

Fuji picked up the sugar pot Atobe had discarded, and quickly dropped three heaped teaspoons into his brother's cup, ignoring the rather incredulous look Atobe was giving him.

"At any rate," Mizuki contined, "it would take a tonne of sugar just to make this taste semi-decent and I'm not about to emulate Yuuta's habits." He gave Yuuta a look that said he'd be running extra laps to make up for the three spoons of sugar he had in his tea, and then took a sip of his drink.

Atobe wasn't quite sure what happened next, but one minute Mizuki was drinking tea and looking every bit his pompous self and next he was coughing, standing up, pointing an accusing finger at Fuji and looking green in the face.

And there was tea all over the table.

Yuuta was shielding the plate of pie as though his life depended on it.

Fuji didn't seem disturbed in the slightest.

"But you didn't put in any sugar, Mizuki," Fuji said simply. "That was the salt pot."

"You! You!" Mizuki spluttered.

"You don't need to get the table any wetter, you know," Fuji frowned. "It's lucky Yuuta saved Yumiko's wonderful pie or it would have been inedible."

Yumiko sighed. She'd been happy to observe things today, but it seemed Syuusuke was feeling like stirring everyone up.

Yuuta included.

"Aniki," Yuuta stood up, jerking his hand from his brother's. "Why'd you have to do that?"

Fuji frowned, opening his eyes to look at Yuuta.

He didn't give an answer though, and Yuuta's frown turned to a glare.

"You're so… You're so…" For a moment he couldn't even find the words he wanted to say. His mind was almost blank but for the feeling of frustration running through him.

"Baka Aniki!"

(S)

"Syuusuke," Yumiko called. She watched him turning around to face her and shook her head. "Why don't you leave Yuuta for the moment?"

"Why?" Fuji asked, frowning.

Yumiko smiled. "Just let him settle down, won't you? Come and help me clear up."

Fuji smiled and handed his sister the rubber gloves from the kitchen sink. "Here, Nee-san. You'd better wear these so you don't catch anything funny."

"Syuusuke," she sighed. "Yuuta needs space, you know… Like anyone else, he needs to make his own decisions."

Fuji didn't turn around to look at her.

_What if they're bad decisions?_

The question was left unsaid, and Yumiko simply touched his shoulder as she walked past him, rubber gloves in her hand. There were things she wanted to say to Syuusuke, and there were things she wanted to say to Atobe, but she didn't want to speak to either of them in the presence of the other so they would both have to wait for the moment.

She wondered though whether Atobe would figure things out on his own and how long it would take him.

(S)

Atobe knocked on Yuuta's door, brushing down his shirt as he did so. Mizuki had left the house in a storm – a rather frumpy, pink storm – and Yumiko had pushed Atobe in the direction of the stairs, telling him that Yuuta's room was the second on the right. Truthfully, Atobe was feeling a little out of his comfort zone. After seeing what happened to Mizuki, he was starting to wonder if he ought to be watching for knives flying out of the walls and ropes at his feet.

After waiting a minute or so, Atobe frowned at Yuuta's lack of response, and knocked at the door again.

"Yuuta?"

The door opened slowly and Yuuta stared back at Atobe for a moment.

"I almost thought you were Aniki," he mumbled, turning away to pick up some clothes off the floor.

"So you were ignoring me," Atobe responded, unimpressed.

He took the fact that Yuuta had left the door open as a sign to walk in, and did so, looking around the bedroom. It was, to say the least, rather… _small_. Atobe could see only a single bed, a dresser, a wardrobe and a desk, and there was no sign of a bathroom door anywhere. He wondered how one could put up with living in such a poky little space.

Yuuta dropped down on the side of his bed, stuffing a shirt into his duffel bag and frowning at Atobe.

"You're probably not used to this sort of place, huh?"

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "Should I be?"

Yuuta sighed and gave a little roll of his eyes.

"It's what you'd call a _normal_ house, you know."

Atobe walked over to Yuuta's bed and sat down gingerly on the edge. Chairs apparently, were not to be found in _normal_ bedrooms.

"It's what I'd call a _small_ house, actually," Atobe replied, looking out the one small window. "Don't you get claustrophobic being in here?"

Yuuta gave Atobe a disbelieving look for a moment and then broke into a wry grin. "Are you kidding me?"

Atobe frowned. "No, why would I joke about something like that?"

Yuuta leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

For a moment Atobe wondered if he'd said something wrong. He watched Yuuta, wondering if this was a common behaviour – stomping out of afternoon tea and then sulking in one's bedroom – and decided that if he had Fuji Syuusuke for a brother, he'd probably be rather prone to this sort of exhibition as well.

"Are you going back to school now? I'll drive you," he said, by way of saying something just to fill the silence.

Yuuta turned his head and gave him a smile.

Atobe tapped his fingers on his thigh. "What?" he demanded quickly, a little nervous.

Yuuta lifted his head and shook it, still smiling. "Nothing."

"It's not nothing," Atobe replied, annoyed. "What is it? Huh?"

He flicked his hair and rubbed at a spot on his chin that was annoying him. The climate control in this house was a little too cold. It made his skin feel dry, as though he were in an airplane.

Yuuta shoved another shirt into his bag – he ignored the look that Atobe gave him regarding his way of packing clothes – and stood up, stretching his back.

"You don't mind dropping me back?" he asked, looking across the room in case he'd missed anything.

Atobe stood up and brushed down his clothes again. "Of course not. If I minded, I'd never have offered in the first place."

Yuuta dipped his head to hide his smile.

Maybe it was the way Atobe spoke, or the way he was always brushing off his clothes even when there probably wasn't a speck of dirt on him. Or even the way he was always so fussy with his food but then snuck half a packet of fries when he thought Yuuta wasn't looking.

Yuuta felt almost stupid for it, but there was just something that made him want to smile more when he was with Atobe.

Something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

(S)

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner, Yuuta?" Yumiko asked.

She looked disappointed, and Yuuta had to roll his eyes and take a few steps down the footpath before he said no to her. "Well, come home next weekend then."

"I won't," Yuuta scowled back, grabbing Atobe's arm and pulling him to the limo.

"Yuuta!" Fuji called out, appearing behind his sister and smiling.

"What?" Yuuta turned around, scowling.

Fuji smiled and held out a plastic bag. "You left your boxers in my room last night!"

Yuuta turned a bright shade of red and stomped back to the door to snatch the bag from his brother.

"Don't say it like that, Aniki!"

He stared at the footpath as he stomped back down towards the limo again.

He didn't have to look at Atobe's face to know he had an eyebrow raised and was awaiting an explanation.

(S)

"Aniki made me go shopping," Yuuta mumbled, cheeks red as he tried to explain to Atobe why his brother had any of his underwear in the first place.

Atobe crossed his arms and sat back against the leather seat of the limousine. "Shopping for underwear? At your age?"

Yuuta's ears were turning red.

"Really, I hardly see why you'd need help doing something so trivial."

Yuuta stayed quiet, sinking down into his seat.

Sitting here like this now, Atobe thought, it made the afternoon's experience seem almost surreal. It felt as though he and Yuuta were just on another of their dates… Except that they weren't dates, per se, but rather…

Atobe frowned, wondering how he'd categorise their outings as such. They definitely weren't dates, and they didn't quite fall under the "hanging out" category as Jirou put it. Atobe certainly didn't spend time "hanging out", since he had far more important things to do, but then he wasn't really sure how else to describe the time he spent with Yuuta.

He was lost in his thoughts when Yuuta spoke.

"Sorry about… Aniki…"

Atobe looked across at him, blinking at the intrusion. He arched an eyebrow. "Remind me never to dine with your brother in the future."

Yuuta put his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at it absentmindedly. "Yeah," he agreed, though he didn't really think Atobe would need any reminding.

He'd probably have to deal with Mizuki as soon as he got back to school as well… Oh, he really didn't want to go back to school. Mizuki would probably be livid. He'd probably have to run laps until he collapsed.

Or even… _worse_.

Yuuta sunk further down into his seat and stared glumly out the window, watching the buildings and streets going past. It was a moment before he realised they were becoming more and more unfamiliar, and he looked at Atobe quickly. "Atobe, where are we going?"

Atobe looked thoughtful. "Where would you like to go? I don't suppose you really want to go back to school, do you?"

Yuuta blinked. "Um…" Atobe had never before asked where he'd like to go, and he wasn't sure what to say.

He fidgeted for a moment.

He knew it was only late afternoon, but he was still a little hungry… He'd only ended up having a few mouthfuls of blackberry pie, and they were sort of spoilt anyway since Aniki had just shoved them in his mouth in the first place.

He glanced at Atobe and wondered if the other boy was up to eating again so soon after having afternoon tea, if you could call that mess an afternoon tea…

"Could we… Do you want to go to that café and have dessert?" he asked tentatively, meaning that café Mizuki had dragged him to and where they'd had green tea crème brulée.

It seemed like a long time ago now though.

"Which café?" Atobe asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

"That one where they have the gree tea crème brulées… Where Mizuki took me," Yuuta clarified, deliberately avoiding mentioning that they'd met Atobe there and that Atobe had entirely spoiled his afternoon, evening, night and well, the rest of the next day as well.

He'd almost forgotten about that incident, and he wondered if Atobe had forgotten about it as well, or if he'd paid it no attention anyway.

Atobe seemed to consider for a moment, and then nodded his head, tapping on the glass window behind him and giving directions.

(S)

Atobe watched Yuuta playing with the straw in his iced tea.

It seemed like a long time since he'd bumped into Mizuki and Yuuta here and he wasn't exactly keen to remember the incident.

He'd realised since then that there were certain things Yuuta preferred not to talk about; his brother, for a start, and his family. And then he'd realised that he'd stopped bringing up those topics, and that somewhere along the way, he'd stopped caring about Fuji Syuusuke.

As Jirou would have put it, it wasn't about the mouse anymore, or even the rat.

It was about the cheese.

Still, Atobe couldn't help but regret not thinking up a better analogy for Yuuta than a block of cheese.

"Are you okay?" Yuuta asked, his voice once again breaking through Atobe's thoughts.

Atobe nodded decisively, sitting up straight on his side of the table. It wouldn't do to be daydreaming in the middle of a conversation.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee and hoping it would stop him from thinking so much about all of these things.

Yuuta held his gaze for a moment before looking away, out the window of the café to the street. "Not really."

"Well anyway," Atobe said, clearing his throat, "what time do you have to be back at the dormitory?"

Yuuta sighed. "Curfew for Sunday is six, unless you have a leave slip already stamped."

Atobe nodded, checking his watch quickly.

"I suppose we should be leaving then; I wouldn't want you to get in trouble," he said.

"Oh," Yuuta blinked. "Yeah…"

Atobe tilted his head slightly at Yuuta's noncommittal response. "Something the matter?" he enquired, noticing a little spot of dessert next to Yuuta's mouth.

Yuuta shook his head, about to open his mouth to tell Atobe it was really nothing, when his companion reached his arm out and wiped his thumb across his cheek and lip.

"A-Atobe?" he stuttered, blinking. "What are you…?"

Atobe blinked, for a moment wondering why Yuuta was looking at him so strangely. Then he realised what he'd just done, and he hurriedly pulled back his hand, wiping his thumb on his napkin and looking away as he did so. "You had some dessert on your face, that's all," he blurted out, uncharacteristically nervous all of a sudden.

He could swear all the blood in his body was suddenly rushing to his face, and he stood up, grabbing the bill off the tabletop with a shaking hand. "It wouldn't do if you went walking around looking like you'd been playing with your food, you know," he added as he turned and walked over to the cash registers. "People would think I'd been dining with a child."

It was a good thing neither Atobe nor Yuuta were looking at each other, or they'd have realised their faces were almost matching colours.

(S)

Atobe walked Yuuta to the door of the dormitory's lobby again, ignoring the scowl and the verbal protest that accompanied the action.

"I'm not a girl, you know," Yuuta huffed.

"I do believe we did already establish that," Atobe replied with a smirk.

"Then you can stop walking now," Yuuta scowled, his cheeks and ears still tinged with pink.

"Nonsense," Atobe retorted, rolling his eyes. "I said I'm walking you to the door, so I'm not going to stop walking until we reach the door."

Yuuta took the last step to the glass doors and turned around to face Atobe.

"People are going to think you're weird."

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "Why? Because I actually have manners?"

Yuuta sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking away. "Hey, are you going to the library tomorrow?"

"Perhaps."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Yuuta questioned.

Atobe hesitated in answering. "I don't know… I'll call you tomorrow and tell you."

Yuuta began to turn around. "Okay. Tomorrow then."

"Wait," Atobe said quickly, and Yuuta turned to face him again, an expectant look on his face.

"Oh, it's nothing," Atobe said awkwardly, changing his mind on the spot.

Yuuta smiled a little. "Nothing?"

"Nothing, really." Atobe rolled his eyes, smiling a little as he turned around to head back to the limo.

"Goodnight, Yuuta."

"Night Atobe."

.tbc.


	13. Chapter 13

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D Thank you to the people who have left reviews lately :D I appreciate your time and thought.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 13

By Miki

13.

Atobe couldn't sleep.

He could hear the ticking of the antique clock on his desk, and he glanced instinctively at the electronic one on his bedside table, checking the time.

It was a little after four in the morning, but it was dark outside and his blankets and quilt felt too heavy; weighing him down with their plush goosedown fillings.

He reached over and flicked on the light at his bedside, sitting up and pushing the covers off his legs. He felt restless, replaying his own actions in his head, annoyed at himself and confused. What had he been thinking? It was so unlike him in every way.

And yet, he couldn't help but think that it wasn't a passing feeling… It wasn't the first time he hadn't felt like himself when he was with Yuuta, and it bothered him to think that he didn't have the slightest clue why.

He couldn't understand either why he cared so much about Mizuki. For goodness sakes, the boy was just a silly child with a penchant for last season's shirts and bad haircuts!

Atobe frowned and crossed his arms, leaning back against the pillows and the headboard of his bed. Again, he shut his eyes and replayed the afternoon's scene in his head, wondering what on earth had possessed him to act like his _mother_, of all people. It was funny how one's thoughts became so disjointed and nonsensical at this time of the morning, he thought.

Maybe… Maybe even more than the fact that he'd actually done something so… so… un-Ore-sama-ish, he felt annoyed because he felt dissatisfied, and he felt dissatisfied because when he was really honest with himself…

Somehow, it didn't feel like enough.

(S)

"I notice you still haven't purchased an alarm clock, Yuuta," Mizuki stated, making a point of staring at his watch.

Yuuta bowed his head slightly. "Sorry I'm late, Mizuki-san," he began apologising. "I was with Aka-"

"Ten laps."

Yuuta looked up quickly. "Huh?"

"Twenty," Mizuki corrected, lips pursed.

Yuuta decided he'd better start running before Mizuki could issue him anything else, though he thought his manager could seriously do with some happy pills. He'd arrived at training on time, and it was Akazawa's fault if he was late onto the court.

Mizuki was just being a jerk, he decided. A grouchy jerk on a powertrip.

Glaring at Mizuki as he rounded the corner of the court, he noted that he was wearing that pink shirt again.

Yuuta was unnaturally glad he didn't own pink underwear. At least his shirts would only come out blue or purple on a bad washing day.

(S)

Atobe played with the keypad of his phone for a moment, fiddling and flicking back and forth between the menu and the address book as he waited for the regulars to hurry up and get out of the clubroom.

Monday afternnon's practice session was due to start in five minutes and Atobe wanted to squeeze in a call to Yuuta beforehand; he just didn't want the entire team eavesdropping on him again.

"Kabaji," he said tersely, arms crossed as he watched Mukahi and Shishido bickering over a pile of clothes.

"Why don't you wash your laundry at home, stupid? Don't bring it here," Shishido was saying.

Mukahi pointed an accusing finger at Shishido. "Don't tell me what to do with my clothes! And that isn't even mine, that smelly sock! Get it off my clothes before they start to stink too!"

Shishido looked at the offending sock and picked it up, sniffing it. "What's wrong with it?"

"I told you: it stinks! It smells like you've been wearing it for a week!"

"It does not! You smell worse anyway! You smell like you tipped a whole bottle of crap on your head this morning!"

"I did not!"

"Bet you did!" Shishido glowered, leaning over Mukahi. "Bet you thought you'd impress some girl but you scared them all away instead."  
"Did not!" Mukahi protested, voice becoming louder and louder the more Shishido leaned over him.

His face was turning a bright shade of red; whether from embarrassment or anger, Ootori wasn't sure, but little people sure were scary when they got mad. He was glad Oshitari looked like he was about to do something about Mukahi.

Truthfully, he was probably the only person who could deal with angry little sugar-high redheads. Ootori wasn't quite willing to try.

Oshitari took one look at the pile of clothes and declared that Mukahi was under no obligation to move it since more than 50 sat on Mukahi's side of the bench.

Shishido didn't agree, and told Oshitari so with his fist.

Oshitari didn't get the fist – Ootori did – but he got the message.

He also got laps as Atobe's temper snapped.

"Shishido, Oshitari! Start running now! Ten laps each!"

Gakuto cast a gleeful look in Shishido's direction.

"Twenty for you Gakuto Mukahi!"

"Huh?" The smirk quickly fell off Mukahi's face, replaced by a look of annoyance directed at Atobe. "That's not fair! That's twice what Shishido got and he started it!"

Atobe raised an eyebrow, barely retaining his self-control. "I don't care who started it! Run twice as fast if you want to beat him, but you better start running before I give you twenty more."

Shishido smirked, sticking his tongue out at Mukahi. He should have known not to tease someone with such fast reflexes.

Mukahi's fingers shot out faster than Shishido could react, and Mukahi pinched his tongue.

"Eeeeuuuuhh ohhhh!" Shishido yelped loudly, hands grasping Mukahi's arm and twisting.

"Ah! Stupid idiot! What are you doing?"

"Eeeeuh ooh!"

"Shishido, Gakuto, Oshitari, Ootori! Fifty laps right now!" Atobe barked. "You're late onto the courts and you're behaving like idiots! How old exactly are you Gakuto? Shishido? Let go of each other this instant!"

Oshitari ignored the commotion right next to him, barely giving his doubles partner a glance as he raised an eyebrow at Atobe. He knew Gakuto well enough to know he wasn't going to let go unless Shishido let go first.

"So am I to assume you're running with us too, because I notice you're not on court either Atobe."

Atobe twitched.

"Oshitari, what are you doing this afternoon?"

"You're taking me to eat ice cream," Gakuto interrupted quickly, letting go of Shishido finally.

Atobe closed his eyes and flicked his hair, regaining his control and smirking as he realised he'd be killing two birds with one stone. "Well you're not anymore. Sakaki-kantoku wants some third-years to keep an eye on the first-years cleaning up the equipment sheds," Atobe informed, pausing for dramatic effect. "And you've all just volunteered."

He turned and signalled to Kabaji to open the door for him.

"Why me?" Ootori asked quietly.

"Guilty by association," Oshitari said, shooting Mukahi a look of annoyance.

Likewise, Shishido tried to avoid the look Ootori was giving him. For someone who didn't care for small and fluffy animals, Ootori's puppy dog eyes really worked wonders on him.

"A thousand yen says it's problems with Yuu-chan again," Shishido grumbled loudly.

It was loud enough for Atobe to pause in the middle of the doorway, fingers tightening against his track pants until he was gripping them.

"Bet they haven't even gotten to first base yet," Mukahi said smugly.

Ootori blinked. "We're not talking about baseball, you know."

"It's a figure of speech, Choutarou," Shishido said with a huff and a roll of his eyes.

"At any rate," Oshitari said dryly, "I'm rather surprised Atobe's not batting for the other team. The purple frills always seemed to suggest he might."

"Why? Do the other teams have purple uniforms?"

"Choutarou," Shishido warned, turning around to face him. He placed his hands on both of Ootori's shoulders and stared at him blankly. "How can you not know what we're talking about?"

Ootori blinked. "I… What do you mean, Shishido-san?"

Shishido dropped his head, sighing in resignation. Oh, Ootori was giving him that look again. He knew it without even looking.

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"Tell me what, Shishido-san?" Ootori asked, tilting his head a little.

Shishido looked at him, and then knew straight away that he shouldn't have. "Nothing," he sighed.

(S)

"Why doesn't Kabaji have to run laps?" Hiyoshi grumbled as he jogged past Atobe, taking a rather large deviation from the lap he'd normally run. He picked up his water bottle from the bench beside Atobe as he went past, and made sure to give his captain a dirty look.

"If you have time to talk, I can give you more laps," Atobe frowned. He turned to glance up at Kabaji. "Na, Kabaji?"

"Usu."

"Someone has to count them so they don't try to cheat," Atobe drawled, his eyes watching carefully as the regulars ran their laps. Ootori and Shishido were running in sync. Mukahi was running after them, yelling out various unpleasant things to Shishido as he did so.

Ootori was getting a workout of his upper body at the same time, trying to alternately drag and hold back Shishido as they went around the track. Oshitari was looking entirely too smug for someone who was supposed to be receiving a punishment, Atobe thought. He was making it look rather like routine walk in the park.

Luckily for Oshitari, Atobe wasn't in the mood to force the regulars to stay back for a longer practice session. He'd called Yuuta, who'd picked up his phone and told him he could get to the library by six. That meant Atobe was going to make sure the regulars were duly kicked out of the club on time. He didn't have time to torture them any longer, though he rather wanted to.

He'd been thinking about _that_ incident all day. For someone who was used to thinking only of himself, it was a rather perplexing turn of events. He needed something to distract him from the distraction that was Yuuta.

"Kabaji."

"Usu."

"Get your racquet. Ore-sama wants to play."

"Usu."

Atobe stood up, slipping off his jersey and rolling his shoulders. His muscles felt a little tight; perhaps because he'd been skipping his regular massages as of late. When had he decided to sacrifice those massages? Atobe wondered. Probably since he'd been spending a lot of time with Yuuta, he realised with a little surprise. One didn't have endless hours in the day, after all, but it was odd he hadn't taken note of it before.

Getting a good workout against Kabaji was probably what he needed to relax and clear his head, he thought, smirking in satisfaction as he walked to the courts.

(S)

"Atobe's in a bad mood," Mukahi grinned across at Oshitari. He served quickly, sending an easy ball across the net to his doubles partner.

Hyoutei's tensai gave an amused smile and returned the serve. "I wonder what sort of girl she is, to have Atobe running around after her like this," he mentioned, watching as his ball sailed easily into the back corner behind Gakuto, forcing him to turn quickly to catch it.

"Must be some really scary girl," Gakuto agreed, managing to reach Oshitari's return and send it back to him.

"Draconian, you mean," Oshitari smirked, easily amused at the thought of Hyoutei's captain chasing a skirt.

He sent the ball back across the net to Gakuto, less in the mood for tennis now and more in the mood for prying into personal affairs that were not his own…

He'd have thought Atobe would be playing the field rather than chasing after just one girl, but it was starting to look like the boy was apparently less fickle than they'd thought.

It was a little odd, to say the least, and Oshitari was intrigued.

Gakuto returned Oshitari's ball, equally lazily, recognising the look on his partner's face.

"I want to meet her," he declared loudly, catching Oshitari by surprise.

Apparently they were on the same wavelength.

"But Atobe wouldn't let us," Jirou interrupted, standing at the sidelines and yawning a little. "I think it's supposed to be a secret."

Oshitari and Mukahi looked over at him quickly.

"A badly kept one, if it is," Oshitari noted uninterestedly. He took a few steps towards the net, not caring who was watching their practice match or not.

Mukahi also followed his partner's lead, stepping closer to the net as they lazily hit the ball between them, bouncing it off the face of their racquets as though they were playing ping-pong.

Jirou watched as a look passed between the two boys in front of him, and suddenly regretted having come to watch them.

"Jirou," Oshitari said shortly.

"Yes?"

"How do you feel about conducting some research with us?"

Jirou faltered, looking at the cat-eating grin on Mukahi's face and the smirk on Oshitari's.

A glance told him Atobe was looking their way and frowning, and he quickly excused himself, babbling out that he didn't like research much. He'd heard about Yanagi from Rikkaidai and Mizuki from St Rudolph, and then he'd heard about Inui Sadaharu from Seigaku, and he didn't think he liked the sound of drinking green sludge in the name of science, so if it was that sort of research, he really didn't want to be a part of it, but they could ask Kabaji because he was sure Kabaji wouldn't mind doing that. Kabaji did most things that people asked of him, though you had a better chance he'd say yes if your name was Atobe.

Oshitari and Gakuto watched him go and then looked at each other undeterred.

"I wonder where we should start," Gakuto mused.

(S)

Atobe adjusted his tie, pulling at the knot with one finger so that it loosened a little around his neck.

He checked his watch and took a few quick steps toward the English section of the library, wondering if it was possible it had taken him so long to get here. It felt as though only a few minutes had passed since he'd left Hyoutei, but it must have been at least ten in the limousine. The traffic had been a little worse than he'd anticipated, and Oshitari and Gakuto had been annoyingly persistent in not letting him leave in the first place.

He had no idea what on earth they were thinking, but he was sure it was nothing good.

Oshitari apparently had too much time on his hands, which was why Atobe had made a mental note to look into other ways to keep him busy.

At any rate, now wasn't the time to think about Oshitari.

Atobe rounded the corner of the aisle and recognised Yuuta standing at the end of it, nose stuck – not quite literally – in a book. His stomach gave a funny kind of a flip as he approached, that unnervingly familiar tightness in his chest again.

"Yuuta," he greeted quietly, taking the book from the boy's hands and flipping it over to read the cover.

"Oh… Atobe-san…" Yuuta returned, eyes darting to the boy's face and then hurriedly looking back at the bookshelf again.

"Just 'oh'?" Atobe asked, frowning a little as he quirked an eyebrow in curiosity.

Yuuta shrugged. "What time is it?"

Atobe checked his watch. Technically he was about seven minutes late, but Yuuta didn't really need to know that.

"About six," he answered nonchalantly, tapping his knuckles on the cover of the book. "Rudyard Kipling is a funny choice, don't you think?"

Yuuta blinked, taking back the book and flicking through the slightly yellow pages. "Why?"

Atobe shrugged. "I never liked his works, personally, though you might…"

He trailed his fingers across the tops of the books in front of him, reading the mostly familiar titles. It was funny that he was becoming so familiar with this one aisle of the library. In truth, he could have bought any one of the books kept here. He'd have bought them in hardback as well, as opposed to the cheaper paperback editions that the library here preferred to stock. Not that he blamed them. Public libraries tended to be underfunded. Their lack of funds meant they were often understaffed and still, their small workforces were often underpaid. Books were perhaps not their first priority, then.

"Have you read this one?" Yuuta asked quietly, holding a book out for Atobe's inspection.

Atobe took the book from Yuuta and read the title quickly, blinking at the choice.

"George Eliot?" he asked, looking at Yuuta.

Yuuta nodded and repeated the name, working his tongue around the foreign syllables.

Atobe flicked through the book, frowning. It was probably way beyond Yuuta's level of understanding; the ideas, the vocabulary and the grammar were all quite complicated and even understanding the language perfectly hadn't stopped Atobe from disliking the book immensely.

He gave a frown and put it on the shelf out of Yuuta's reach. "It's boring," he declared, feeling a little more like himself once he'd said it.

"I'd recommend this one personally," he added, taking another book down off the shelf and handing it to Yuuta.

Yuuta gave the book a dubious look, glancing up at Atobe with uncertainty.

"I can't read the title," he said blankly.

Atobe hid his smile. "Then look it up in a dictionary."

"If I have to look up the first two words in a dictionary, how am I supposed to read the rest?" Yuuta questioned, annoyed.

He opened it up to the middle of the text, eyes scanning the pages for words he could recognise.

"It's too hard."

"Nonsense," Atobe retorted automatically, rolling his eyes.

He leaned in closer to Yuuta and pointed his finger at the page. "See? It's not that difficult. The grammar's a piece of cake and the vocabulary is hardly difficult."

"Maybe not for you," Yuuta grumbled, and Atobe smirked.

"Well, you can't all have ore-sama's talents."

Yuuta sighed in exasperation, trying to glare at Atobe. "It's not like you need to rub it in, stupid."

Atobe smirked. "The truth hurts. Get used to it."

"You read it then," Yuuta scowled, pushing the book at Atobe's chest.

The butterflies were back in Atobe's stomach again. He vaguely registered the fact that Yuuta was touching him, though he probably didn't even notice.

The fingers against his chest were pressing against his skin.

They felt warm.

"Already did," Atobe smirked, the quickest response he could think up as he took the book from Yuuta's hands.

Yuuta looked put out and Atobe smiled.

"Read it," he ordered, pushing the book back into Yuuta's arms peering at the bookshelf once again.

"It only took me a day or so to finish," he said offhandedly, picking out a few more books and holding them out absentmindedly toward Yuuta. "I supposed it shouldn't take you too long, although if you get stuck, you can always ring me."

There was silence for a moment, and Atobe held out another book in Yuuta's general direction.

"Mm…" Yuuta finally answered, non-committal and hesitant sounding.

Atobe turned around to look at him and frowned. "What?"

Yuuta hurriedly shook his head. "It's nothing… When are we going to get dinner?"

Atobe checked his watch again. "You're right," he conceded, surprised the last fifteen minutes seemed to have gone so quickly. "We're late."

"Late for where?" Yuuta asked cautiously.

He'd been hoping for a McDonalds meal of sorts – junk food being the order of the day – but Atobe really hated anything that came in a box and not on fine china so Yuuta wasn't keeping his hopes up.

"Like I said, _dinner_," Atobe repeated, unwilling to give anything else away.

Yuuta gave him a suspicious look.

"Are there snails?"

Atobe blinked. "Do you want snails?"

"No," Yuuta shook his head, eyes wide.

Atobe smirked. "That's what I thought."

"So… no snails," Yuuta clarified, a look of relief on his face.

Atobe rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it?"

"I was just checking," Yuuta scowled, looking away.

Atobe watched him, raising an eyebrow at his childishness. Still, the look on Yuuta's face sent a little thrill of pleasure through him, and he felt smug with the knowledge that Yuuta would get a surprise out of his choice of dinner for the evening.

(S)

The formal dinner Yuuta had been expecting turned out to be pizza.

Granted, it was a 5000-yen pizza, he had to eat it with a knife and fork, and there were anchovies on it, but pizza was still pizza.

And anchovies were easy to pick off when Atobe wasn't looking.

(S)

Yuuta stretched, arching his back and staring up at the dark sky.

Atobe watched as the chauffeur shut the limo door behind them, and then took a few steps towards the lobby. It was starting to be a familiar sight – the dormitory with all its lights on at night.

He couldn't really say that it looked very homely. It was almost more like a hospital; a place of temporary residence where a whole bunch of strangers found themselves living together and bumping into each other in the corridors. At any rate, the lobby certainly smelt like a hospital, as though someone had been cleaning it with lemon-scented bleach.

Atobe looked up at the rows and columns of windows, and wondered which one of them was Yuuta's.

"Coming?" Yuuta asked him, and Atobe nodded, snapping out of his thoughts to look at Yuuta.

"Of course," Atobe said quickly, following Yuuta. "I was just thinking."

"About…" Yuuta prompted.

Atobe hesitated in answering. "You know, I was just thinking that you could always take a look at _my_ library."

"You have a library?" Yuuta asked, looking dumbfounded.

Atobe gave him an odd look. "Well of course I do," he responded quickly, rolling his eyes. "What sort of house would I have if I didn't keep a library?"

"Er…" Yuuta smiled nervously. "Normal people don't have them though…"

Atobe flicked his hair. "Whoever said I was normal?"

Yuuta decided it was best not to answer. Atobe seemed to like rhetorical questions anyway.

"Well, as I was saying," Atobe continued, "you're more than welcome to come and look. Just send me a message when you want and I'll have the driver come and pick you up."

Yuuta couldn't help feeling sorry for Atobe's driver. All he ever did was sit and take orders from a kid half his age. He imagined Atobe dishing out his orders and smiled, having to look away from the boy to avoid laughing. "Okay," he agreed, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

"What?" Atobe demanded, flicking his hair.

"I didn't say anything," Yuuta smiled.

Atobe frowned.

Yuuta raised an eyebrow, and Atobe blinked at the action, a little smile curving the edges of his mouth.

"Shouldn't you hurry in?" he asked, watching as the office man – Atobe hadn't ever bothered remembering his name – fussed about at the door, narrowing his eyes in suspicion at them through the glass. By his watch, Yuuta had about three minutes to get in the door before he got a punishment for being late back on a school night.

"Yeah," Yuuta smiled. "I'm going."

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then there was a rapping of knuckles on the glass behind Yuuta and he spun around quickly, cheeks turning a bright pink as he saw the guy on office duty pointing at the clock. He wondered if he'd been watching them, and suddenly felt guilty, like a kid being caught stealing from the cupboards before dinner. But it wasn't as though he'd been doing anything wrong, was it?

And then, as he turned back, he realised that Atobe was right in front of him; closing the gap between them.

He felt Atobe's fingers across his forehead before his mind registered the motion, and he flinched a little at the light touch. Instinct or otherwise, he didn't have time to think about it because the next minute, Atobe had jerked back, staring at him with wide eyes.

"What…"

"I…"

They stared at each other, awkwardness evident in the way Atobe put his hand to the back of his neck.

"Uh… I'll send you a message about the library… thing…" Yuuta blurted out, needing to fill the silence between them.

Atobe gave a nod and turned quickly, too afraid to meet Yuuta's eyes. He thrust his hands quickly into his pockets as he walked to the limo, the jerky motion doing nothing to calm his nerves. He managed to make it to the backseat of the limo before he put his fingers to his forehead, leaning forward and squeezing his eyes closed. Goodness, he couldn't understand what was wrong with him – why he was acting like this with… with…

He couldn't even finish the thought; the mere prospect almost too miserable to be entertained seriously…

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled the first number on speed dial.

"Kabaji."

(S)

Yuuta touched his hand to his forehead, mind absolutely devoid of any thought. He didn't know what to think. All he knew was that his chest felt tight and his heart was racing like he'd just run a marathon.

For a moment then… He'd almost thought…

It was like in those cheesy romances Nee-san liked to watch, when the guy finally tells the girl how he feels, and she stands there waiting for him, and then…

Yuuta cringed, wondering what was wrong with him. His fingers were tingling, and his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest.

"Yuuta."

He turned, mouth forming a little "oh" as he realised who was talking to him.

"Hurry up and get inside before I ground you," came the warning tone, and Yuuta stuttered out a "yes", passing through the glass doors to the lobby without another thought of Atobe.

.tbc.


	14. Chapter 14

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated but not obligatory. :D I like to know what you like, don't like and what you think of the story in general. To the person who asked how long this story is, we're currently two-thirds of the way through. Thank you to the people who have been reviewing!

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 14

By Miki

Yuuta couldn't sleep. He lay awake; eyes wide open as he stared at the wall. 

He kept thinking again and again of Monday night and of Atobe and of _that_, and he kept asking himself it was really what he thought it was or if he was just becoming more and more paranoid with every day that passed.

Maybe he was over-thinking things. Maybe there was nothing more to it than a misunderstanding…

Yuuta closed his eyes and tried to think of something else. Anything else was better than thinking of Atobe right now. He couldn't understand why he just couldn't stop thinking about him; about it. He was sure he was just thinking stupid thoughts, and yet… It was almost like… he didn't want them to be just stupid thoughts.

Oh, this was just dumb.

Yuuta opened his eyes and turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling instead. He'd been thinking about this ever since Monday night, and every night he'd been running around in circles and never reaching any conclusions at all. Well, he'd concluded that he was losing his head and losing sleep and that he should just hurry up and forget about the whole thing, but that was easier said than done.

The thing was…

He'd realised something on Monday night. He'd realised that he couldn't really understand why he spent time with Atobe like this. It was weird, wasn't it? He was sure it was. It was like Atobe had just woken up one day and decided to bug him. And he had. He'd driven Yuuta crazy at the beginning.

And yet, being together had become almost normal now, and Yuuta couldn't understand why.

They had almost nothing in common, and what they had in common, they didn't talk about.

And for some reason, it worried Yuuta, because if Atobe could wake up and decide one day to spend time with him like this… Couldn't he also wake up and decide he couldn't be bothered and that he didn't want to see Yuuta anymore?

The thought was really bothering him, a lot more than he wanted it to…

He'd been thinking it for the past three nights, and now it was Thursday night and Yuuta could swear he'd had less than ten hours sleep over three nights. Mizuki was starting to comment on the bags under his eyes. He'd offered anti-wrinkle cream too, but Yuuta didn't think anti-wrinkle cream was going to stop him from thinking so much. It didn't even really stop wrinkles, but he couldn't tell Mizuki that. Mizuki would probably have a nervous breakdown or something, and Yuuta wouldn't be able to cope with that.

Yuuta rolled over onto his side again, restless but unwilling to get out from under the warm blankets of his bed.

Atobe had told him to message him about going to see his library.

_His_ library.

Yuuta's phone sat on his bedside table, the blue flashing light reminding him he'd missed his brother's call a few hours before. Absentmindedly, he picked up the phone and flicked to his messages, his thumb hovering for a moment before hitting the button for a new message. What time was it? he wondered. He hadn't thought of looking, but it was probably sometime after midnight already.

_Are you free tomorrow night for the library thing? _

Staring at the bright white screen in the darkness was a little tiring and Yuuta rubbed at his eyes, looking over his message. Maybe Atobe would give him an answer by tomorrow morning, he thought, hitting the button to send and watching as the little blue letter flew across the white screen.

_Message sent. _

He frowned and put the phone back down on his bedside table, staring up at the ceiling again with an arm resting over his forehead. Maybe he should just ask Atobe about it.

Yuuta pulled a face in the dark.

What was he thinking? It wasn't like he could just bring it up in the middle of a conversation, saying "hey Atobe, what was with that bit the other night when it looked like you were going to kiss me?" Even the thought of trying to talk to Atobe about it made him feel embarrassed.

Yuuta sighed a bit and wriggled further into his bed and pulled the blankets over his head. He couldn't ask anyone about it. It wasn't like he was talking about a _girl_ either.

Atobe was… a _guy_.

There was nothing normal about liking a _guy_.

Yuuta closed his eyes under the covers, thoughts returning to the circles they'd been running in for days and nights. Then the buzzing of his phone startled him, and he wriggled out of the covers to grope at his bedside table and grasp his phone. It was a message.

_Don't you mean _tonight_? What are you doing up at this time?_

Yuuta couldn't help but give a slight smile, momentarily forgetting how troubled he'd been feeling as a funny feeling settled in his chest.

_Same thing and you can't talk, you know. What are you doing up?_

Yuuta pressed the button to send and sat still, watching the blinking of his phone's light. A moment later it buzzed again and Yuuta quickly opened the message, eyes scanning the lines of text rapidly.

_I'm not talking, I'm writing, and I'm still awake because I'm doing paperwork for the tennis club. I'll send the car to pick you up today at six. Go to sleep already. _

Yuuta yawned suddenly, blinking away the moisture in his eyes as he poked at his keypad, typing back quickly.

_You go to sleep first then. _

Hitting the send button, he wondered what sort of a message that was anyway. He must be more sleep deprived than he thought. Setting the phone down next to his pillow, he rolled onto his side again and curled up, watching the rhythmic blinking of the light, waiting for Atobe's reply. Yuuta was sure he wouldn't be able to resist replying.

Atobe liked to have the last word.

Before the phone buzzed again, Yuuta had fallen asleep.

(S)

"Yuuta?"

Someone was calling his name.

"Yuuta! Wake up."

Yuuta opened his eyes quickly, sitting up and staring toward his door.

"Yuuta."

Yuuta jumped, surprised at the voice right at his ear. He turned his head and blinked as he realised he was staring at Akazawa and not at Mizuki. No, that was right, he reminded himself. If it were Mizuki waking him up, he'd have been sitting on him already.

"I… What… Am I… late?" he managed to get out, his mouth failing to form coherent sentences.

Akazawa gave a wry smile. "Not yet. Actually Mizuki sent me to wake you up. He said you haven't been sleeping well and that he wants you to meet him ten minutes before practice so he can talk to you."

Yuuta groaned and reluctantly got out of his bed, walking across to the door of his bathroom.

Akazawa watched him go, a thoughtful look on his face.

"What?" Yuuta asked, rubbing his head.

Akazawa shook his head. "Is there something keeping you from sleeping? You don't look very well, you know."

Yuuta shook his head and looked around in vain for a clock. He kept forgetting he hadn't replaced it yet, and with a sigh, he asked Akazawa what the time was.

"Late," was Akazawa's answer before he disappeared out the door, looking amused.

Yuuta cursed, hurriedly slamming the bathroom door and throwing his pyjamas haphazardly over the floor as he stumbled into the shower. He hoped Mizuki didn't want to talk about anything weird. He wasn't sure he could stomach talks about anti-wrinkle cream, eyelash curlers or epilators, boxer shorts or the art of ironing shirts today.

Five minutes later, the effects of several sleepless nights, not enough food and too much rushing around too early in the morning were starting to hit him, and he wasn't sure he could stomach anything.

Yuuta felt sick.

(S)

"Atobe," Jirou called out.

Atobe looked up, a little surprised at the interruption. He tilted his head slightly, and Jirou took the motion as a prompt to continue talking.

"Ootori and Shishido and I are going to have ice cream. Do you want to come?"

Atobe gave a quick shake of his head, drumming his fingers on the clipboard he was holding.

"Oh," Jirou said slowly, a little put off. "Are you sure?" he asked, smiling just in case Atobe really did want to come but had to be asked twice.

Atobe considered for a moment. He was rather tempted, though not because of the company. Truthfully, if they were going to the ice cream parlour he was thinking of, then he'd have been content to put up with the worst company in the world as long as he got his ice cream. Still, he'd said he would send the car to pick up Yuuta at six, and he wasn't about to make Yuuta stand around and wait.

He gave a shake of his head to Jirou and flicked his pen against the clipboard impatiently. "Is there anything else?"

Jirou shook his head hurriedly. "Not really, I just thought you'd want to come since we're going…"

For a moment he looked thoughtful. "Um… Maybe… Do you want to go on the weekend instead? You could bring Yuu-chan with you then… I mean, if you wanted," Jirou spoke shyly.

Atobe opened his mouth, slightly surprised at Jirou's suggestion.

"Actually, I'm not sure that would be a good idea," he finally said, uncrossing his legs and crossing them again.

Jirou smiled. "Oh," he said, and rocked back on his heels. "Okay, well, I'm leaving now then!"

Atobe sat for a few minutes after he'd left, flicking his pen against the clipboard as he thought. He supposed it was rather inevitable that at some point the rest of the regulars would meet Yuuta, but inevitability didn't stop him from wanting to delay it as long as possible. It wasn't as though he'd expect their reactions to be anything less than shocked, and quite frankly, he didn't imagine he'd like sharing Yuuta either…

It would be infinitely more preferable to keep the two parts of his life separate, he thought, resolved on the issue.

And then he paused, his hand freezing its repetitive motion as he wondered when he'd actually accepted that Yuuta had become a part of his life.

He'd given up on the idea of getting to Fuji; he'd realised that a while ago, but he'd never before thought about Yuuta being a part of his life.

Many things were a part of his life, really. Tennis, of course, his father's business and the prospect of being heir to a multinational corporation hung over his head, and school, of course. People too, whether he wanted them or not… Yuuta, somehow, was different to everyone else. Maybe because Atobe had gone out of his way to get to him, but then, he realised, he hadn't really cared at all for Yuuta at the beginning, had he? He'd just seen him as a stepping stone to get to Fuji Syuusuke.

Yuuta had just been a temporary part of a larger plan.

Atobe twirled his pencil between his fingers.

He looked up suddenly as a shadow fell across his lap, and realised he was peering up at Sakaki.

"I'll see you in my office now," he said without bothering with greetings.

Atobe stood up and followed as Sakaki turned and began walking back toward the school building. Thoughts elsewhere, he hardly noticed that Sakaki had stopped and was looking at him until he nearly walked into him.

He gave his coach a frown. "Kantoku?"

Sakaki raised an eyebrow. "It seems to me that your mind is elsewhere, Atobe."

Atobe opened his mouth to reply, but Sakaki cut him off quickly with a look of reproach.

" I would appreciate it if you would listen to what I'm saying since I'm sure it matters to you whether or not Hyoutei gets to the nationals this year."

"Of course," Atobe frowned, pursing his lips.

"Well then," Sakaki continued, "as I was saying…"

Atobe wondered when he'd stopped seeing Yuuta as an extension of Fuji Syuusuke and started seeing him as, well, _Yuuta_.

For a moment, he wondered what Yuuta thought of their… What would one call it? It wasn't exactly an acquaintance, but he wasn't quite game enough to call it a friendship either…

Did Yuuta also think it was odd? Was Atobe just a temporary distraction to him the way Yuuta had been to Atobe? The thought unnerved Atobe, a tight, constricting feeling welling in his chest as he thought about it. Did Yuuta even consider him a friend?

Atobe's feet stopped walking. Since when did he even care for friends?

"Atobe," came Sakaki's tense, clipped voice, and Atobe's eyes widened, embarrassed at being caught not listening for a second time.

He quickly caught up to Sakaki and avoided looking at him for the rest of the short walk, his head jumbled with thoughts of Hyoutei and the nationals, Yuuta and himself.

(S)

Somehow the back seat of the limousine seemed a lot bigger than usual.

Yuuta stared across at the seat opposite him, wondering if this was what it was like for Atobe all the time; sitting on this huge leather seat by himself, bored. Though Atobe didn't seem the type of person to get bored, Yuuta thought. He'd probably always have something to do, being the captain of Hyoutei's tennis club and all.

Watching the buildings and streets go past was strange. The futther they went, the more Yuuta felt as though he was leaving Japan. The spaces between the houses became longer, the houses bigger, the fences taller, and Yuuta tugged at his tie nervously, wondering if he should have changed out of his school uniform. He hadn't even brought his blazer with him because he'd been feeling too hot and sick for it, but they hadn't even reached Atobe's house yet, and he was sure he was going to feel underdressed.

He watched as they passed another house, looking at its huge, elaborate design and the iron gates in front of it.

He could have sworn his entire house could fit in that front yard.

And then they slowed and turned, finally.

Yuuta peered out the window and nearly fell off his seat, looking around. This had to be a joke. Atobe's house… wasn't a house at all.

It was like… a hotel.

And all too quickly, Yuuta realised the car was coming to a stop in front of a set of steps and a huge set of doors, and he sunk down into his seat instinctively, shrinking away from the huge structure in front of him.

He didn't just feel undressed. He felt _naked_.

(S)

Atobe hurried down the staircase, a front on his face as he did so. Why had no one told him Yuuta was about to arrive? Did they think he had ESP? Telepathic communication skills?

He'd been in his office, playing around with the idea of mixing up Hyoutei's doubles players – not Mukahi and Oshitari, of course (because no one else could handle Mukahi and no one else would want to) – and he hadn't even changed out of his school uniform yet.

Now he was wearing a wrinkled shirt, a horrid school tie – the fact that it was better than 90 of other school ties did not mean it wasn't horrendous in itself – and he hadn't even had the time to check his hair in the mirror. He hadn't even checked in the library yet to see what exactly he was going to lend to Yuuta. It wasn't as though he really needed to, but something about this was making him nervous.

He didn't feel ready.

The front doors opened quickly and Atobe and Yuuta met each other's gazes instantly.

"You can come in, you know," Atobe said, breaking the silence first. He levelled a stare at the butler holding open the door, noticing that he was giving Yuuta a strange look. It annoyed him, and he made a note to deal with it later.

Yuuta didn't seem to be moving though, his mouth open and his eyes wide as he looked up at the chandelier and the staircase.

Atobe frowned and walked over to him, about to snap his fingers when he realised what he was doing and waved a hand instead.

"Yuuta."

"Ah," Yuuta breathed out quickly, "sorry! I just… Forgive the intrusion…"

Atobe gave a smile at the look on Yuuta's face. He looked awed, which was of course what people were supposed to feel when they stepped into the Atobe mansion, but Atobe's nervousness wouldn't let him stand around while Yuuta stared with his mouth open. There were better things to do than catch flies, after all.

"Come on," he said, his arm hovering behind Yuuta as the boy continued to stare.

Settling for resting his hand on Yuuta's shoulder, he half led and half pushed him to the library.

"Don't you get lost in here?" Yuuta asked as they reached the door, and Atobe raised an eyebrow at him.

"How on earth could I get lost? I live here."

"Yeah, but…" Yuuta blushed. "I mean, it's so big."

Atobe smiled and rolled his eyes, pushing open the door. "Honestly, next time you come I can give you a GPS if you'd like."

Yuuta hid his smile. "Stupid," he muttered under his breath.

There was a noise behind them, and Atobe turned around to speak to a butler, asking Yuuta what he'd like. Yuuta gave a shake of his head, telling Atobe he wasn't thirsty.

Atobe gave him a frown and told the butler to fetch him a bottle of water. Then he flicked on the lights to the library and Yuuta stared, dumbfounded.

"You can shut your mouth, you know," Atobe said dryly.

"Ah… right," Yuuta responded, stepping into the centre of the room. He'd never seen such a big private library before. He didn't think he'd even seen this many books in a single house before. From floor to ceiling around three walls, all he could see were books.

It almost made him wonder why Atobe came to the library at all.

Atobe was confusing like that, Yuuta thought. But then, he kind of liked that about the other boy. The past few nights when he hadn't been sleeping, he'd been realising that there were actually a lot of things he liked about Atobe.Yuuta wondered what his Aniki would say if he had any idea what he was thinking.

Maybe he'd have been speechless, and that would have been a first.

.tbc.


	15. Chapter 15

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated but not obligatory. :D I like to know what you like, don't like and what you think of the story in general. Thank you to the people who have been reviewing!

Also, to Aynon, because I can't reply to your review, I'll just babble here XD Your review of the last chapter really made me grin though actually I like all of your reviews :D I've always been drawn to weird pairings that are totally off the beaten path and which are probably odd or inconceivable to a lot of people. I like them because they're more fun to play with than popular pairings and because I seem to have a thing for side characters who don't always get enough love :D;; And I love Yuuta to bits XD I figure with a manager like Mizuki and a brother like Fuji, he needs some love and affection, though I'm not sure that Atobe is really the most loving sort of person, unless he's loving himself :P I like writing odd pairings, so I'm glad there are people who enjoy reading them.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 15

By Miki

"Atobe-san…"

"Hm?" Atobe answered, his arms already full of books.

Yuuta blinked. "Are these all your books?"

Atobe snorted. "Of course not. The rest wouldn't fit in here, and of course I keep my textbooks in my study."

Yuuta blinked at Atobe's response for a moment, confused as to what the other boy was talking about. That wasn't quite what he'd meant…

He smiled a little, covering his eyes with his hand.

"It would be inconvenient to have to walk all the way down here every time I wanted something," Atobe continued, not noticing Yuuta's amusement. "I hardly have enough time as it is without having to trek around my own house…"

Yuuta moved his hand to his head and looked at Atobe, shaking his head a little. He watched as Atobe raised an eyebrow at him and then placed his pile of books on a table.

"Something bothering you?" he questioned.

Yuuta shook his head and walked over to the table, standing beside it a little awkwardly. Atobe reached over to the end of the curtains and fumbled for a moment before pulling the cord. The heavy curtains opened with effort and Atobe dropped down into a chair.

"Sit," he demanded, and Yuuta sat.

Atobe smirked. "Are you always so obedient?"

Yuuta rolled his eyes, a little annoyed because Atobe just happened to point it out at the right moment. "I'm not always, you know," he protested. "It's not like I'm a sheep," he added, thinking of certain members of St Rudolph's tennis team.

Atobe raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

Yuuta gave him a look.

"Oh, there's a book over there on the table by the door," Atobe said, looking like he'd just remembered something. "Can you just fetch that for me?"

Yuuta stood up and looked across the room. Sure enough, there was a book on a small table near the door, and he walked over and picked it up, flicking to the title page as he walked back to the table where Atobe sat. "Here," he passed it to Atobe and sat down in his seat again, hands instinctively resting in his lap as he looked around, still a little nervous.

After a moment, he realised Atobe was staring at him and he looked at him quickly, embarrassed. "What?"

Atobe smirked. "Nothing."

Yuuta put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Say it," he demanded.

Atobe sighed, the corners of his lips quivering before breaking into a very un-ore-sama-ish grin.

"I was just thinking you make a much better dog than you'd ever make a sheep," he said, amused. "You already know how to sit and fetch. One would only have to teach you to roll over and you'd be perfect."

Yuuta opened his mouth, mind blank as he searched for a comback, or just anything to say in response. The look of annoyance on his face only made Atobe laugh, and he turned his face away, covering his mouth, eyes looking out the window.

Yuuta closed his mouth and crossed his arms. "Hmph."

Atobe turned his eyes to look at him, still hiding his smile with his hand. "You know you even have the open-mouth thing going for you as well. You've been doing it ever since you got here…"

Yuuta could feel his ears turning red.

"A-Atobe-san!" he stuttered out.

Atobe just continued smiling behind his hand. "Honestly, Yuuta, you don't need to look so scandalised. I'm sure you'd be a cute dog, like a short-haired Labrador or a-"

"You've got to be kidding me," Yuuta scowled out eventually, cutting Atobe off, cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Atobe rolled his eyes. "Well, one could hardly be serious about this sort of thing, you know."

There was a knock and then the click of the door sounded and they both looked across to see the butler coming in with a tray of drinks.

"Just in time," Atobe murmured, watching as the butler placed two bottles and two glasses on the table beside them.

Atobe waited until the waiter had left and then gestured. "The water's yours," he said, pulling his own bottle of peach juice toward him. "You didn't want a water bowl with that, did you?"

Yuuta tried to glare back.

It didn't work.

Atobe just smirked.

(S)

Yuuta wasn't sure why he wasn't allowed to carry his water bottle with him from one room to another, but Atobe insisted it was uncouth to do so, tramping around as though they couldn't afford to gave him another.

So Yuuta followed Atobe as he led the way up the stairs to his bedroom, running his hand along the smooth wood of the banister as he looked at the walls.

The butler had been sent off to get Yuuta a new bottle of water and a clean glass, even though Yuuta didn't think there was anything wrong with the one he'd just drunk from. It wasn't as though he was going to catch any funny diseases from himself. Still, Atobe had insisted – that was, he'd insisted by giving Yuuta a look and clapping his hands to call the butler over before Yuuta could protest.

Walking behind Atobe, watching his back as he led the way down the hallway, Yuuta realised he kept staring at the broadness of Atobe's shoulders and back and the straight crinkles in his white shirt where it was tucked into his pants.

He didn't know why… Couldn't understand why… Why he kept looking at Atobe like this.

"Yuuta?"

He looked up quckly, eyes meeting Atobe's.

"Were you listening to me?" Atobe asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Yuuta shook his head. "Were you talking?"

Atobe sighed and flicked his hair. "I was saying that there's a bathroom right there that you may use. I suppose the maids should have cleaned mine by now, but one can hardly expect them to be so reliable. They're supposed to, of course, but that doesn't mean they've actually _done_ it," Atobe sighed. "You know what servants are like…"

Yuuta blinked.

Actually he didn't have a clue what servants were like, but Atobe didn't seem to expect him to say anything back, so he simply followed the boy into another room as he opened the door and led the way.

The room they'd walked into was huge. It wasn't quite as large as the library downstairs… but the massive bed Yuuta could see seemed to suggest this was a bedroom. It was big enough to be Yuuta's kitchen, lounge and dining room at home.

"This is my room," Atobe said, and Yuuta recalled the number of times he'd heard other people say the same phrase.

Somehow, seeing Atobe stand in the middle of such a space and saying the same thing that Saeki and Mizuki and Nee-san and Aniki had all said just seemed unreal.

The room seemed unreal.

"So… Do you actually sleep here?" Yuuta asked awkwardly, looking around.

Atobe gave him a funny look and walked over to one of the plush chairs at the side of the room, sitting down in it. "Of course. Where else would I sleep?"

Yuuta rubbed at the back of his head. "Um… Well," he began, looking at the bed again.

It was made up in the Western style, with sheets and multiple pillows of varying shapes and sizes and some blankets folded down at the end of the bed. It didn't look like there was a wrinkle anywhere on it.

Atobe tapped his fingers against his thigh for a moment, then placed his arms on the armrests of his chair. "Is there something funny about sleeping in a bed?" he questioned, not seeing what was so fascinating about his bed. "You wouldn't expect ore-sama to sleep on the floor, would you?"

Yuuta shook his head quickly, surprised. "No, it's not that…"

He left the rest of the sentence unsaid, wondering if Atobe could understand what he was thinking. They really came from different worlds, didn't they? For some reason, the thought sent a feeling of unhappiness through Yuuta, and he walked over to the windows, looking for something to distract himself.

"We could sit on the balcony, if you'd like," Atobe offered, abandoning his chair and walking over to unlock the double doors.

"Um… Okay," Yuuta said hesitantly, realising Atobe had already decided.

"By the way, you did get my last message this morning, didn't you?" Atobe asked, standing aside so Yuuta could walk through the doors before he closed them again.

He really hated to let the cool air from outside get into his room.

"Ah, yeah," Yuuta mumbled, quickly walking over to the edge of the balcony and looking out over the property.

Atobe frowned at Yuuta's vague answer. He wanted to know what Yuuta thought, actually, having written and rewritten the message multiple times before eventually sending it. Sometimes he really hated to have to do things in writing. One was never really sure how they'd be interpreted on the other end, after all.

"You have tennis courts?" Yuuta asked loudly, leaning over the balcony railings.

"Of course," Atobe responded quickly, his mouth moving automatically.

"Do you ever play on them?" Yuuta continued, sounding too excited to notice Atobe's sudden discomfort.

Atobe gave a shrug in response and stood next to Yuuta, frowning down at the picture the back garden of the property made. "I suppose," was the best answer he could come up with.

Tennis courts were tennis courts, as far as he was concerned, though he did appreciate the fact that his were always well-maintained and gave him privacy and the convenience to play whenever he liked.

Yuuta looked at him quickly, surprised Atobe was so close to him. "Do you practise here then?" he asked, tone more serious than before. "I mean, by yourself?"

Atobe ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the courts in question. "Not every day," he admitted. "Sometimes I practise with Kabaji, of course… It's rather boring to practise alone, you know."

Yuuta kept watching him, and Atobe shifted, a little awkward under his gaze.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure what to do right now.

The fact that he was happy at Yuuta's visit was almost overshadowed by the fact that he'd just realised they were on the balcony of his bedroom and he didn't have the slightest clue what Yuuta would want to do.

He didn't have many video games – reading being far more preferable to killing brain cells off with joysticks and controllers and games with girls with guns and oversized breasts – and he wondered what Yuuta would normally do at people's houses…

What did other people normally do? He wondered. Personally, he was used to sitting and having tea – usually the English sort in preference to the Japanese sort – but that was with his mother's friends and his father's business colleagues…

Having someone other than Kabaji in his own room was a little… strange…

"Atobe-san?"

"Hm?" Atobe snapped out of his thoughts.

Yuuta opened his mouth, about to speak when he heard a buzzing noise and realised Atobe was pulling his phone from his pocket.

"Atobe," he said, answering the call quickly, glancing at Yuuta as he turned around and opened the doors again.

Yuuta watched him shuffling papers around on a desk, and then turned back to look at the tennis courts again. He was spending so much time with Atobe lately… When he counted up the number of hours they seemed to spend together, it was easily more than the number of hours he spent with his brother in a whole month. He wondered what he'd do if Atobe suddenly decided…

Then he pushed that thought from his mind, refusing to let himself get sidetracked into circles again.

He glanced back into the bedroom, but it seemed like Atobe had disappeared somewhere, so he sat down in one of the chairs on the balcony, noticing the new bottle of water and the clean glass now sitting on the table. Weird, he hadn't noticed the butler at all.

He must have been more out of it than he'd thought.

(S)

Atobe hesitated for a moment before switching off his phone, shoving it into the drawer of his desk. If anyone asked, he'd just say the battery went flat. He flicked his watch, annoyed to realise the call had lasted nearly ten minutes, and walked back out to the balcony.

Yuuta was sitting in one of the deck chairs; eyes closed, his mouth slightly open.

Atobe blinked, reaching out to touch Yuuta's shoulder when he decided not to. He must have been exhausted, and Atobe wondered why he hadn't noticed it before. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd noticed Yuuta was a little quieter than usual, but he'd been too busy feeling nervous to notice. He sighed a little as he went back inside and pulled one of the blankets off the end of his bed.

It wouldn't do to have a guest catching a cold, at any rate.

(S)

Yuuta registered the sound next to him before he felt the touch on his arm. He opened his eyes a little groggily, only to realise that he was looking at a pitch dark sky.

"You're awake," Atobe noted.

Yuuta turned his head quickly, startled to see Atobe so close to him.

"I… What…" he mumbled out, his voice a little dry. "Was I asleep?"

"You ought to know better than me," Atobe replied, picking up a pile of papers from the table and heading toward the door.

"Now I can go inside, at least. It was getting a little cold out here," he grumbled.

Yuuta blinked and sat up a little fast. There was a dull thud of pain in his head and he tried to reach for the glass of water he hadn't finished drinking before.

There was something against his arms, he realised, looking down to realise there was a blanket over him. He pulled it off awkwardly, folding it. It looked like one of the ones off Atobe's bed, so he didn't want to get it dirty. Then he picked up the water bottle and followed Atobe inside, shutting the door behind him.

Atobe was sitting at his desk, fingers trailing down what looked like a list.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, not lifting his gaze as Yuuta stood next to the desk.

"I guess," Yuuta responded quietly. "Sorry about falling asleep."

Atobe looked up at him then, eyes looking intently at Yuuta's face.

Yuuta shifted his feet a little. "I don't normally fall asleep, you know," he explained hurriedly, thoughts straying again as embarrassment turned his ears pink.

Atobe was probably angry at him, he thought. Fidgeting a little with the blanket he was holding, he put his water bottle down on the desk and dropped the blanket on the end of the bed, cringing at the wrinkles it made.

"By the way, thanks… for the blanket."

Atobe was silent, and Yuuta frowned, wondering if he should go home soon. Then he felt a touch on his forehead and realised Atobe was standing right next to him, the back of his hand pressed against his skin lightly.

Yuuta swallowed quickly, nervously. "What are you doing?" he asked, conscious of the places Atobe's shirt was brushing against him.

"You seem a little hot," Atobe said slowly, concentration written on his face. He removed his hand and put the back of his other hand to his own forehead for a moment. Yuuta was too surprised to say anything in return, and Atobe suddenly stepped back and walked toward the door. "You should come and eat something. Really, it's late enough already and I'm guessing you haven't eaten since lunch."

"I did," Yuuta protested, following Atobe to the door of the bedroom. "I had some of Mizuki's cake."

Atobe turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Anything he's eating probably isn't good for you."

Then, seeing the look on Yuuta's face, he turned his head quickly. "Besides, I haven't had dinner either," he added.

"Oh," Yuuta hesitated.

Atobe sighed and awkwardly took hold of Yuuta's shoulder, steering him out the door and down the hallway.

Yuuta was sure his face was turning the colour of a tomato. If Atobe thought he was sick, that was fine, but it probably wasn't entirely the sort of sick he was thinking of…

(S)

"Are you forgetting something?" Atobe asked, raising an eyebrow as Yuuta stepped towards the limo.

Yuuta tilted his head slightly, rubbing at his hair tiredly. "Am I?"

"Only the books you actually came to borrow," Atobe replied, a smile at the edge of his lips.

He waved his hand toward the butler who had duly followed them out, gesturing for him to hand over the bag.

Yuuta took it from him clumsily, fingers only just grasping the edges of the bag, and Atobe cringed a little, wondering if he should point out that Yuuta was actually holding Atobe family heirlooms for goodness sakes.

_Irreplacable_ family heirlooms.

Honestly, Yuuta looked as though he was half asleep. He'd looked awake while they were eating dinner – the mental challenge of using a knife and fork on peas being better attempted while conscious – but since then, he'd just looked sleepier and sleepier.

Atobe had asked Yuuta why he hadn't been sleeping; having eventually squeezed that much out of him, but Yuuta had just told him he'd been "thinking too much". Atobe wasn't entirely sure how one could think too much. He suspected that it had never occurred to Yuuta that heads were for thinking and that thinking was what most normal people did.

Still, at least watching Yuuta shooting peas across the room had provided Atobe with some amusement. He didn't get to see that every day. Dismissing the butler with a wave of his hand, Atobe stepped forward.

(S)

Yuuta watched Atobe moving toward him, feeling awkward ever since he'd woken up. His head felt odd; that dull thudding pain and the haziness that lack of sleep brings not helping him. Were his feet moving, or was that just his imagination?

He didn't know.

"Honestly, you should listen to what people tell you," Atobe frowned, and Yuuta blinked, his mouth failing to move to say what he wanted to say.

"I told you to sleep, did I not?"

The pulsing in Yuuta's head seemed to be getting worse and he squeezed his eyes closed against the pain for a moment, wishing it would just go away. Why did it have to be _now_?

"Yuuta?"

Yuuta opened his eyes.

(S)

Atobe watched as Yuuta squeezed his eyes shut, a grimace on his face.

"Yuuta?" he questioned, concern seeping into his voice though he wished it wouldn't. "Are you…"

He trailled off, realising the redundancy of his question. Of course Yuuta wasn't okay. "Should I come with you?" he asked instead, raising his hand to press the back against Yuuta's forehead again. "I think you're getting worse."

Yuuta shook his head quickly. "I'm fine," he insisted stubbornly, for a moment looking awake again. "I just need to catch up on sleep, that's all…" he argued, heart beating quickly and his head throbbing.

Atobe frowned, a little annoyed at Yuuta's insistence. Really, it was clear that he was anything but fine.

"And… I'm sorry for falling asleep on you…" Yuuta apologised again, a feeling of unhappiness in his chest. He really didn't want Atobe to be annoyed at him for it, and even though Atobe hadn't really said anything, Yuuta couldn't help but feel annoyed at himself too…

"I really didn't mean to…"

"Yuuta," Atobe snapped suddenly, "I really don't care that you fell asleep at all. One would think sleep would be exactly what you need right now, so you can stop apologising."

"I…"

There was silence for a moment.

The hum of the limousine's engine reminded Atobe that they'd been standing out here for more than just a few minutes, and Yuuta was probably getting cold in his short sleeves. He'd been hesitating, not wanting to go back inside. There was that feeling in his chest again; that nervous, fluttery, skip-beat feeling.

Standing so close to Yuuta like this, he felt like…

He knew what he wanted right now, right this moment.

Yuuta's forehead was warm where his hand touched it, and he moved his hand slowly, about to step back like he knew he should. But instead, he moved his hand back, tentatively brushing it over Yuuta's hair. It felt really soft; softer than he'd have thought…

And then before he'd realised it, he was already tilting his head. His hand gently pressed against the back of Yuuta's head – the hair there was soft too, kind of ticklish – forcing him to tilt his head down. His other hand moved to brush the edge of Yuuta's hair, right next to his scar and his lips tentatively pressed against the skin there; just enough that his lips too, felt the heat his hand had felt just moments before.

He closed his eyes for a moment, the slightest of kisses sending the sensations in his body into overdrive; hormones and nervousness and heat in his chest and tingling right down to the tips of his toes.

A moment later, he pulled back a little awkwardly, letting go of Yuuta and hurriedly looking away.

"Like I said, just go to sleep without thinking too much," he said, not waiting for Yuuta's reply before he turned and walked back to the house, hands trembling and slightly sweaty in his pockets.

He only hoped he could follow his own advice.

(S)

Akazawa saw Yuuta taking the stairs as he filled in a form in the office. He looked up to call out to the other boy, but he looked completely exhausted and Akazawa decided he'd see him in his room in a moment instead. Yuuta looked as though he'd fall over if he were kept on his feet any longer.

(S)

Five minutes later, when Akazawa opened the door to Yuuta's room, he sighed at the scene before him.

Yuuta was curled up on top of his bed; his socks and uniform still on.

Akazawa debated for a moment whether to let him sleep or not, but it was only half an hour before lights out, so he stepped into the room and looked around, pulling out a spare blanket from Yuuta's wardrobe and spreading it over the boy.

He supposed his talk with Yuuta would have to wait until tomorrow.

.tbc.


	16. Chapter 16

Notes: This chapter is a little odd in spots. XD I don't remember what I was thinking when I wrote it.

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D Thank you to the people who have been reviewing this story. I appreciate your thoughts and feedback.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 16

By Miki

"Akazawa-buchou."

Akazawa turned around quickly. "Oh, Yuuta, are you feeling okay?"

He hadn't been sure if Yuuta would turn up to the afternoon practice session, so he was a bit surprised to see him here. (Yuuta still being asleep when they'd all left the dorm in the morning.)

Yuuta nodded a little sheepishly, racquet grasped at his side. "Yeah, I just… needed to sleep, that was all."

Akazawa stared at him for a moment and then gave a nod, finishing tying his shoelaces and standing up.

"Do you still need to talk to me?" Yuuta asked.

"Not anymore," Akazawa responded. He gave a quick shake of his head and patted Yuuta's shoulder as he walked past to the door of the clubroom. "But if there's anything, don't keep it to yourself, okay?"

Yuuta opened his mouth but didn't say anything. Then he frowned, quickly turning and following his captain out of the clubroom before the others arrived.

(S)

Mizuki wasn't stupid. He at least wasn't as stupid as Yanagisawa, who kept banging balls carelessly back at Yuuta, asking him questions with every one.

"I bet it's a girl, isn't it, da ne?"

Yuuta smacked the ball back forcefully, a glare on his face.

"Where'd you meet her? What does she look like, da ne?" Yanagisawa continued, completely ignoring the look on Yuuta's face.

Yuuta returned the ball with even more force.

Behind Yanagisawa, Kisarazu Atsushi and Akazawa stood watching the warm up from behind the fence. They shared a look as Yanagisawa's questions continued.

"Is she tall? I like tall girls, da ne! But I don't like them too tall or I have to wear big shoes, da ne!"

Yuuta grit his teeth, running to return the ball, trying to ignore the urge to vault the net and put his own shoe in Yanagisawa's face.

_Idiot_.

Mizuki watched from the bench at the side of the courts.

Yuuta did look a lot better this afternoon he had to agree; probably the result of sleeping like a log for about fourteen hours straight, skipping the morning's lessons and then sleeping through his Maths class once he got there, but he still looked as though there was something bothering him.

Yanagisawa usually didn't get to him him as much as he was today. And Yuuta usually didn't go out of his way to aim his returns at his teammate's head either.

"You don't have to look so grumpy, da ne! I'm just asking, da ne!"

Mizuki watched as Yuuta's return flew past Yanagisawa's ear, banging into the fence right in front of Akazawa's face. The fence rattled, and Akazawa and Kisarazu stepped back from it, suddenly deciding that they had better things to do than watch other people practise.

(S)

Yuuta sighed a little as he rolled over on his bed. 

Sighing didn't fix things; he knew that, but he didn't know what else to do either. He hadn't touched the books Atobe had lent to him, pushing the bag under his bed so he didn't have to look at it. It wasn't that he didn't want to think about… about what had happened. It was more that he just didn't know what to think anymore.

His chest felt hot when he thought about Atobe; like that same feeling from before, except… different. It felt sharper, like his gut was twisting and his chest was tight and he couldn't breathe; like his chest was suddenly too small for his lungs… His hands felt sweaty when he wondered what it all meant, and then when he thought about that moment again… When Atobe had kissed… When Atobe kissed… him…

Yuuta sat up quickly, pushing himself up off the bed and staring across at the wall of his room.

He couldn't understand why he felt like this; this feeling in his chest. It was like he was happy and miserable and anxious and hopeful and scared absolutely shitless all at once.

It wasn't even like Atobe had kissed him on the lips… What if he'd meant nothing by it? Was that possible? Was it just because he'd been sick and Atobe had taken pity on him or something?

Yuuta sighed again and bent forward to cover his eyes with his hands. There was something comforting about the darkness; as though if he weren't seeing anyone, they weren't seeing him either… Like when he'd been little and Aniki would hug him. Yuuta had hated it; hated the darkness of his face being pressed against his brother's chest; hated that suffocating hold… But now…

He felt scared. Scared that he wished it was what he thought. Scared that he wanted something more than just… friendship out of Atobe. Scared that maybe, just maybe, he really did like Atobe. Scared that maybe he liked Atobe in _that_ way…

Scared that…

That… maybe he wasn't normal.

He squeezed his eyes closed, almost wishing… Wishing Aniki was here.

(S)

"Is something the matter?" Sakaki asked dryly, slipping off his blazer as he looked down at Atobe.

The boy had been bothering him all afternoon.

Most of the other players hadn't noticed it, he realised. One probably wouldn't, except that he'd known Atobe long enough to recognise the impatient flick of his hair and the way his eyes darted from court to court, barely acknowledging the players he watched, hardly noticing what was going on around him.

Atobe didn't respond to his question, and Sakaki repeated it, feeling his annoyance increasing. It was one thing to have a problem – personal or otherwise, problems were all problems – but it was another to not _do_ anything about it and bother everyone around you. Had Atobe not been sitting down on a fixed bench, Sakaki would probably have been satisfied enough to tip him off his seat and give him a warning.

As it was, the boy didn't seem to have noticed him at all; something else which grated on Sakaki's ego rather more than it should have.

He decided to return the favour and ignore Hyoutei's captain.

Let him wallow in his misery, he thought, walking over to the centre of the court to halt Jirou's practise match with Hiyoshi.

Atobe was perhaps the only player at Hyoutei who didn't have to worry about tennis for the moment so let him worry about other things, Sakaki mused. It would probably do him some good to grow up a little and stop thinking he was the centre of the world.

Then he turned his attention to Jirou and Hiyoshi. "Hiyoshi, too much topspin on the ball," he criticised. "Jirou, stop straightening your elbow so much. Keep your attention on the ball."

From the sidelines, he felt Atobe's eyes on him and cursed the fact that somewhere along the way, he too had learned to pay far too much attention to Atobe. One sometimes forgot he was just as human as everyone else.

(S)

Kabaji stared at the courts, almost wishing he could play a match. It seemed like the perfect day for tennis today; the courts dry, the sun shining and a slight breeze. But Atobe was sitting on the bench in front of him, and Atobe was always Kabaji's number one priority.

Kabaji ignored the feeling of wanting to move; wanting to exercise his muscles, and instead watched the scene in front of him, taking it in. Jirou and Hiyoshi looked like they were having fun. Well, Jirou at least, looked like he was awake, and Hiyoshi didn't look too grumpy, though he had a habit of looking grumpy almost all of the time.

Oshitari and Mukahi were playing a doubles match against Shishido and Choutarou, and Sakaki was watching them from the side of the court.

The other non-regulars were sort of scattered around, and Kabaji felt an obligation to watch them, since it was pretty clear to him that Atobe wasn't paying any attention to them.

He didn't know what Atobe was thinking about. He didn't ask that sort of thing.

Atobe had been checking his phone continuously. He'd pull it from his pocket, open his inbox, check his call list, put it back in his pocket, pull it out again, check his inbox, check his call list, put it back again.

A couple of times, Kabaji had seen him open a new message. He'd start writing, and then he'd stop again, putting the phone back in his pocket again and fiddling with his hands or his pen, as though he needed something to keep them occupied.

He'd messed up his hair too. His always impeccable hair looked somehow wrong; strands hanging over his forehead as he played with it, and odd bits sticking out at angles like he had just gotten out of bed.

Kabaji didn't have to be told to be able to guess what, or rather, who, Atobe was worrying about. If Atobe wanted to tell him, he'd tell him. If he didn't, then he wouldn't. It was enough for Kabaji that Atobe was here.

(S)

Atobe swung his racquet violently; quickly, so that he felt the muscles in his arm twitch, protesting against the repetitive motion.

He hadn't warmed up properly; hadn't wanted to. He couldn't be bothered warming up. It took too long when all he wanted to do was bang the ball into the wall.

Again and again his thoughts returned to Yuuta.

He looked up at the cloudy sky and wondered if St Rudolph had finished training already, if Yuuta was back in his room doing homework, or if he was still on the court. Maybe he was at the library or maybe he was with Mizuki…

Atobe banged the ball into the wall more ferociously, his reflexes too slow to catch the ball as it bounced off and flew past his side, running away along the paved surface behind him.

He wondered what Yuuta was thinking and instinctively fingered his phone in his pocket. The only thing that stopped him from calling was the thought that maybe, just _maybe_, Yuuta wouldn't want to talk to him anymore.

Atobe stared at the ground, his eyes focusing on the patterns in front of them. He put his hand to the back of his head, grasping the hair there and gripping it.

Ugh.

He was such an idiot! What on earth had he been thinking? What if Yuuta was angry about it?

Atobe hadn't even stuck around to find out. He hadn't wanted to know how Yuuta would react so he'd turned around and left him there… And what if Yuuta refused to see him now? What if he was completely grossed out and didn't want to spend time with Atobe ever again?

Atobe's head was spinning with all the possibilities… All the horrible ways Yuuta could react. And seriously, when he thought about it… He wondered what he'd expected in the first place. He must have been such an idiot to think… That Yuuta even liked him like that.

Atobe turned and walked back to pick up his tennis ball, gripping it tightly in his hand.

Yuuta… wasn't a person who liked to be pushed. Atobe knew that. Now he was wondering… What if he'd pushed him too far?

Dropping the ball and hitting it with his racquet, Atobe began the familiar rhythm again. Back and forth the ball went, faster and faster and faster until he was breathing quickly; eyes following the motion, muscles protesting it and sweatdrops forming on the backs of his knees.

He just wished he knew what Yuuta was thinking.

(S)

Yuuta didn't know what to think.

Mizuki was currently standing in front of him wearing what looked like a pair of stockings. "What do you think, Yuuta?" he asked, lips curling a little as he pushed his hip out.

"Er…" Yuuta hesitated, trying to buy time.

He knew Mizuki, and he knew that when Mizuki was asking for an opinion, he really was not asking for an opinion. He was asking you to tell him what he wanted to hear because if you told him anything else, you'd end up with fifty laps or a bruise on your body.

And Yuuta really wasn't that fond of laps.

"Well, what do you think of the colour," Mizuki snapped. "I mean, should I have bought the neutral ones or the beige? Does it make a difference?"

"I…" Yuuta rubbed his head. "I don't know," he offered, hoping he could perhaps plead ignorance and it would pass. It apparently didn't because Mizuki raised an eyebrow and then walked over to grasp his shirt.

"Do I have to put my legs in your face before you'll pay attention, Yuuta? This is an important question!"

"No! That's… that's not necessary!" Yuuta protested, moving his arms in front of him just in case Mizuki tried it.

"Then give me an answer," Mizuki demanded, stepping back and crossing his arms.

Yuuta obediently looked from Mizuki's left leg to his right leg, trying to spot the difference between the two. He rubbed at his forehead a little, squinting. They looked the same.

They looked like… suspiciously un-hairy teenage boy legs covered in girl's stockings.

Personally, Yuuta thought both legs were just as bad as each other, but he was sure they weren't the same to Mizuki.

"The left one," he said finally, wondering if that was the right answer.

"What about the left one?" Mizuki questioned, his hands now on his hips as he looked down at his stocking-covered legs.

Yuuta swallowed. ."Um… It makes your leg look… nice?"

Mizuki was silent for a moment. He turned around and walked so he was standing in front of Yuuta's full-length mirror and then walked back again. "You're right," he finally declared, twirling some hair around his finger and looking thoughtful. "I'm rather partial to the neutral myself, but in a certain light, I think the beige is a little more flattering."

Yuuta breathed out a sigh of relief.

When Mizuki had stormed into his room, declaring an emergency and demanding Yuuta give him his full attention because this was a life or death matter, Yuuta probably shouldn't have taken him seriously.

"Mizuki-san…"

"What?" Mizuki responded, turning around from looking at his reflection in the mirror again.

"Why are you actually wearing stockings?"

Mizuki gave Yuuta a surprised look, pursing his lips when he realised Yuuta was asking him a serious question. "Should I not?" he demanded in return, turning his head back around again.

Yes, Yuuta was right. His left leg seemed somehow… slimmer… than his right.

He was glad for Yuuta's opinion on the subject. As a general rule, Mizuki Hajime had always found it hard to endure the company of other boys of his age. Yuuta was just the exception to the rule.

Somehow, he always knew when to say exactly what Mizuki wanted to hear.

(S)

It was already Thursday morning by the time anyone had the guts (or stupidity in Mukahi's case) to bring up the topic of Yuu-chan.

Atobe had been waiting for it all week. Unfortunately for Mukahi, that meant Atobe had also been thinking up appropriate punishments all week, and had rather a large repertoire of ideas to choose from.

"Mukahi," he smirked, eyes narrowing a little. "You remember those applications for Ore-sama's fan club, don't you?"

"You mean… that pile in Sakaki's office?" Mukahi ventured, looking a little wary. "From those idiot fangirls? The ones outside right now?"

"The ones who chased you into the bathrooms," Oshitari murmured, looking amused.

Atobe gave him an irritated stare and continued on. "Well, the pile's grown since you last saw it, but yes, that's the one," he corrected, ignoring the urge to twitch. Clearly there was nothing idiotic about his fans. Obviously they didn't compare to his own genius, but it did take some intelligence to recognise Ore-sama's talents for what they truly were.

"At any rate, it doesn't matter whether you think they're idiots or not because you're going to file every one of those applications today, so you can look forward to knowing _all_ those idiot fangirls exceptionally well."

The way Mukahi scowled gave Atobe a sense of satisfaction; a small sliver of enjoyment in an otherwise exceptionally average day. Then he flicked his hair, turned on his heel, called Kabaji and made his escape. One could only take so much of Mukahi Gakuto on any given day.

(S)

"Yuuta?"

"Huh?" Yuuta spun around.

"It's not 'huh'," Mizuki corrected, annoyed, "it's _Mizuki_."

"Y-yes… Mizuki-san," Yuuta sighed, tapping his racquet against his shoulder.

Mizuki thought he was looking tired again, but Yuuta had said he'd been sleeping, and the number of times Yuuta had been late to breakfast this week seemed to suggest he'd been sleeping rather _too_ well, so Mizuki didn't think that was the problem. It annoyed him to think though, that perhaps the problem was a certain Hyoutei player whose limo had been noticeably _absent_ this week…

Still, Mizuki liked to draw lines, and at the point that Yuuta was pouring apple juice into his soup and dropping food in his glass, Mizuki was rather inclined to think he'd already crossed it. He yelled to Yuuta to hurry up and take his position on the court, and stepped back to the baseline to serve.

The first ball he hit was a perfect ace.

Mizuki opened his mouth to tell Yuuta off, but the sheepish look on Yuuta's face told him he didn't have to say anything.

The second ball bounced directly in front of Yuuta and flew through his legs before he'd moved his racquet.

Mizuki twitched at that and irritably pulled another ball from his pocket, bouncing it quickly against the court surface. "Yuuta," he snapped, "are you or are you not on a tennis court? Hurry up and get your head out of the clouds already!"

"Yes, Mizuki-san…" Yuuta mumbled, rubbing at his head, cheeks pink.

Mizuki made a noise of displeasure and watched Yuuta for a moment, about to turn back when Yanagisawa's voice cut through his thoughts.

A thump, a bump, a thud and an "ack, da ne!" later, Mizuki realised Yuuta had hit a ball.

With his _head_.

Or was it, that the _ball_ had hit _him_?

Once again, Yanagisawa's frantic yells were too much for him and he covered an ear, walking quickly around the net.

"I think I've killed him, da ne!" Yanagisawa was wailing, leaning over Yuuta's body.

Mizuki noted with irritation that everyone else had stopped practising and that there was a crowd forming from a distance – close enough to gawk but far away enough that if Yuuta woke up, he wouldn't be able to reach them.

"Oh for goodness sakes," Mizuki snapped, "You didn't kill him, idiot! He looks the same as he's looked all week."

He gave a kick to Yuuta's arm, frowning down at him. Honestly, how annoying did Yuuta want to be?

Yanagisawa scooped up Yuuta rather dramatically, glaring up at Mizuki. "You have no respect for the dead, Mizuki-san! How can you be so cruel, da ne!"

"He's not dead," Mizuki pointed out, waving his racquet at the two of them.

Idiots. He was surrounded by idiots.

Yanagisawa looked at Yuuta and found himself staring at a pair of angry eyes.

His cheek was throbbing, his head was throbbing, his arse was throbbing, his back was throbbing, and Yanagisawa was _hugging_ him.

"You're not dead, da ne!" Yanagisawa declared happily, stating the obvious.

People didn't die just because weaklings with shitty serves and even shittier aim hit them in the head, Yuuta thought.

"But _you_ are," he replied, grasping his teammate's shirt and pulling.

Yanagisawa reflected afterwards that maybe he should have followed Mizuki's example and left Yuuta on the ground. He also hoped that Yuuta would hurry up and fix things up with that girl because he was getting weirder by the day, and really, what was Yuuta's problem, da ne?

.tbc.


	17. Chapter 17

Archive: NO. 

Reviews: Appreciated. :D Thank you.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 17

By Miki

Friday mornings were usually uneventful.

Friday mornings usually found Akazawa hitting balls around a court with Kisarazu or Yanagisawa – or both – while Mizuki and Yuuta kept to the other side of the courts doing… whatever it was that Mizuki did with Yuuta. Lately though, things at St Rudolph's Tennis Club had been… odd… to say the least.

Akazawa looked across the courts at Yuuta doing pushups on the ground, and wondered if he should have given him a more severe punishment. Simply doing pushups wasn't exactly strenuous – not when Yuuta was used to doing them so often anyway – but Akazawa almost thought that the bruise on Yuuta's face was punishment enough.

At any rate, it looked like it really hurt.

Besides, punishments seemed to fall mostly under Mizuki's jurisdiction, and since he didn't seem to want to dish out any more punishments for the day – he was busy rubbing at the avocado facial cleansing scrub on his face anyway – Akazawa let it slide, though he made a note that Yuuta was going to be picking up a lot of balls for the next week.

Still, he had to do something.

Yuuta was one of his players, and an important one at that.

St Rudolph didn't have hundreds of club members like Hyoutei. Players here weren't disposable objects to be replaced when their use-by dates came up. Seeing Yuuta in such a robotic state was making everyone feel on edge, and when the only time he didn't look in a daze was when he was chasing Yanagisawa, it didn't exactly make Akazawa feel any better.

He glanced across at their manager, but Mizuki was still working on his face rather than on Yuuta and it didn't look like he was intending to do anything anytime soon. No, Akazawa decided, he really didn't want to wait for Mizuki to do something first. Mizuki may have been their manager, but _he_ was their captain and Yuuta was his player.

But the thing was, he wasn't exactly sure what Yuuta's problem was. He knew it had something to do with Atobe, and he knew that they'd been spending a lot of time together lately. He knew because the only perk of having to file forms in the dormitory's front office was knowing exactly what everyone else was up to while he was stuck in the office being helpful.

What Yuuta was thinking, he'd given up on trying to guess.

Why he was hanging out so much with Atobe was beyond Akazawa's imagination. What did they do together? Did they even have anything in common? Akazawa could just imagine Yuuta punching Atobe's pretty face into the ground, and that was about as far as his imagination went.

Was it really even any fun hanging out with someone like Atobe for someone like Yuuta?

Akazawa idly twisted the handle of his racquet in his hand and frowned, watching Mizuki.

Yuuta and Mizuki and Atobe...

It struck him as weird that Mizuki would even tolerate Yuuta hanging out so much with Hyoutei's captain.

He tended to like to control Yuuta, so the fact that he'd let him spend so much time with Atobe seemed to suggest… he probably wanted something out of him, or perhaps he had another plan up his sleeve.

Mizuki almost never went into anything blind and not wanting something in return.

Akazawa kept watching as Mizuki finished washing his face with water and started dabbing at it with a small towel. Finally, they were going to get some training in, he thought with relief.

Anticipating Mizuki's voice shouting out instructions any moment now, he tossed his racquet in his hand, flexing his fingers and his grip. Muscles loose, body ready to go once again, Akazawa looked across at Mizuki, wondering what was taking him so long this time.

And then he saw the cucumber.

The _cucumber_.

Friday morning training was supposed to consist of warm-ups, practise matches and time in which to perfect new techniques and work on problems and then warm-downs. There were never supposed to be, in any shape or form, cucumbers involved.

Cucumbers did not _belong_ courtside.

And for once, Akazawa made a point of telling Mizuki so.

(S)

Yuuta tapped his fingers nervously against his desk, eyes darting back and forth between his mathematics homework and his mobile phone.

He'd rung his brother nearly ten times now, but every time he answered, Yuuta just hung up. He couldn't help it. There was something in his brother's voice that just made him want to panic and hit the 'end call' button as fast as possible.

Sometimes Yuuta really felt as though Aniki knew everything, and the thought that he might even have the slightest clue what Yuuta was thinking about Atobe was enough to scare him stupid.

He didn't want his brother to know.

He didn't want anyone to know.

He wasn't even sure if he was thinking what he was thinking, or whether he wanted to be thinking what he was thinking or if he was overreacting and overanalysing everything and turning into a freaking _girl_.

Beside him, his phone vibrated against the desk. It was Aniki returning his call. Again. Yuuta didn't need to look at the phone to be sure of it.

Ignoring the noise, he slumped forward on his desk, biting his lip as he pressed his forehead against his hands.

He really didn't understand what was wrong with him.

A moment later, the noise stopped, and his fingers fumbled for the phone again. He turned it over in his palm, pressing the buttons without looking.

He really wanted to talk to his brother. He wanted... to know what he thought.

Pressing the phone to his ear, Yuuta could hear the dial tone; familiar and repetitive in his ear.

As he heard the clunk of the home phone being pulled from the hook, he bit his lip harder and his hand clenched his mobile just a little bit tighter.

"Hello?"

He heard his brother's voice on the other end.

"Yuuta? Is that you?"

_Speak_, Yuuta told himself, _speak_. Say something. It wasn't that hard. He just had to break the silence.

"Yuuta? What's wrong with you? Are you sick?"

Yuuta opened his mouth quickly, nervousness making his head spin. He had to tell Aniki. He had to know if… if maybe this was something that happened to everyone. Maybe it was normal. Maybe it was something to do with having too many hormones and growing and maybe it was just a phase.

Maybe if he told Aniki, that's what he'd say.

"Do you need me to come and see you? I have a spare uniform in my cupboard that I can wear," Fuji continued.

"Ah…" Yuuta interrupted, the momentary horror at the thought of uniforms in his brother's wardrobe overcoming the lump in his throat. "Aniki…"

"I'm quite sure you'll like it. You always liked nurses when you were little, you know. You used to look up their skirts," Fuji smiled, and Yuuta could just imagine him twisting the phone cord between his fingers.

"Aniki!"

Yuuta gripped his desk with his spare hand. He was sitting up straight in his chair now, eyes wide and staring out the window in front of him. He couldn't believe his brother still remembered that!

"Actually I was thinking it's been so long since I've seen you, Yuuta…" Fuji continued, voice softened, "don't you think it would be nice to come home?"

Yuuta stiffened, not wanting to cave into his brother's request. "I'm too busy," he replied, carefully since his brother always knew when he was lying.

"Are you sure?"

Yuuta frowned intently. "Yes."

"Nee-san's going to make blueberry pie again," Fuji coaxed.

Yuuta thought about how annoying and underhanded his brother was, and wondered if he could just go home for a day and eat pie without having to worry about his brother. Then he realised he was listening to his brother and frowned even more.

"Aniki, I'm not going home," he scowled. "Not this weekend, not next weekend and not the weekend after either."

His brother seemed to consider for a moment.

"Then I'll come and visit you, Yuuta. Just to check up on you, okay? I'll bring my stethoscope with me… and oh! I just remembered something," he giggled.

Yuuta felt his stomach sinking.

"What," he demanded blankly; the word not so much a question as a sign of resignation.

"It's a secret," Fuji smiled, pausing. "I might show you when I come and visit," he cooed.

"_Don't_ come and visit then! I don't want to see anything!" Yuuta snapped quickly, dread running up his spine. Anything Aniki wanted to show him was bound to be awful, creepy or downright yucky, he was sure.

"Don't say that, Yuuta," Fuji smiled. "I'd never miss visiting my little brother when he's sick. It's the only time I get to look after you, isn't it?"

"I don't need your looking after," Yuuta scowled, and rubbed roughly at his hair. "And besides," he added, "I never said I was sick, did I?"

"But you don't have to say it, Yuuta."

Yuuta felt his mouth. It was dry. His throat felt tight. For a moment there was silence on both ends of the phone, and then Yuuta heard his brother playing with the cord.

"Aniki."

"Yes, Yuuta? Oh, that's right, you were ringing me about something… What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Nothing," Yuuta said, surprising even himself.

(S)

The next thing Fuji knew, he was listening to the sound of the telephone cutting off and then the incessant beeping of a one-sided phone call.

He opened his eyes and frowned.

(S)

Akazawa sighed a little as he realised Yuuta had fallen behind him again. "Yuuta!" he called out, frowning, and watched as Yuuta looked up at him quickly and hurried forward again.

It was really starting to get to him; this weird mopey Yuuta he wasn't used to.

He'd thought bringing Yuuta out with him would distract him from whatever he was thinking about so much, but it didn't seem like that plan was working. Whenever Akazawa turned around, Yuuta was looking down at the footpath and looking worried.

Akazawa didn't really expect Yuuta to confide in him. He didn't really expect Yuuta to tell anyone what he was worried about, and he wasn't about to force Yuuta. But he _did_ expect Yuuta to fix whatever it was, and fix it soon.

He stopped as they reached the shop he wanted, and a moment later, felt Yuuta walk into his back.

"Ah! Sorry," Yuuta said quickly, his face turning a little red.

Akazawa just sighed and stepped through the sliding doors of the sports store, checking to see that Yuuta was following him.

(S)

Yuuta followed Akazawa without really paying attention to where they were going.

They were walking along the footpath – he knew that much – and they were heading for one of the sports stores in town. Akazawa wanted to check out a new pair of shoes, so they were going to take a look, even though it was Sunday afternoon and even though normally Yuuta would be thinking about doing his homework right about now.

It didn't matter that he usually didn't do his work until much later in the day. Most days, he needed a long time to get the idea of studying English or Maths into his head anyway.

He glanced up at Akazawa again, seeing his back a few metres ahead of him, and then cast his eyes back down to the cement footpath again. He kept feeling as though everyone's eyes were on him, and he kept staring back, wondering if they too knew what he was thinking. He felt almost as though it was stamped on his forehead… Weird, strange, abnormal…

Were they looking at him and knowing? Did they know what he thought? Could they tell just by looking at him, what a sick guy he was?

He didn't know…

He couldn't really understand how it had happened, but now he realised that he liked Atobe.

He really did.

It was really… It was weird. There was no other way to say it, but it was true.

Realising it had almost made him feel more miserable than before.

It wasn't like he'd ever _wanted_ to like Atobe… It wasn't as though he'd _asked_ for it – _asked_ to hang out with the guy, _asked_ to spend so much time eating weird, expensive food with ten different forks and knives and spoons on either side of the plate, _asked_ to sit in the backseat of the limo with him, _asked_ to like listening to his voice, or the way his shirt sat on his broad, straight shoulders…

Feeling his thoughts getting sidetracked again, Yuuta glanced up quickly.

He was starting to think Akazawa had dragged him out to make him feel better, or else find a chance to give him a scolding about his tennis.

Was it even tennis when the best shot you'd hit all week had knocked someone flat on the ground? Yuuta didn't think so. The ball wouldn't even have landed inside the court at any rate…

He felt someone's eyes on him again, and quickly turned his head, looking straight at another boy in a school uniform.

The other boy was probably about the same age as he was. He was standing against a shop window just a few metres away and as Yuuta looked at him, he opened his mouth a little, eyes wide for just a moment before he then hurriedly ducked his head and rushed off into the crowd behind Yuuta.

Yuuta blinked, feet stopping beneath him.

What was that? He wondered. People didn't usually look at him like that.

He turned his head, nervously searching out that uniform, but it was too late.

Instead, he jogged quickly to catch up to Akazawa, turning his head one more time to try to see the boy.

He didn't find the boy, but he found Akazawa's back.

(S)

"Hey, what about these ones?" Akazawa asked, holding up a pair of green and white Nikes.

Yuuta shrugged and sat down tentatively at the edge of the low red couches; the ones meant for people trying and buying shoes.

Maybe he should have asked Aniki what he meant on the phone. He felt like they'd left the conversation half-finished, and now he wanted to know if Aniki knew about _that_… If he _really_ knew, or if he was just putting on that scary "I know everything" voice because it was what he liked to do to people.

Yuuta didn't want him to think he was weirder than he really was.

Because, besides realising that he actually liked Atobe, he'd also realised that… He _only_ liked Atobe. It wasn't that he didn't like girls, or that he did like other guys. It was just that there was something different about Atobe.

He wasn't _gay_. He just happened to like a _guy_. That was all.

"Yuuta?"

"Huh?" he looked up at Akazawa again, finding a pair of shoes being thrust at him again.

"Blue ones or red ones?" was the question.

Yuuta stared at both pairs of shoes for a moment. "Don't the red ones look a bit pink to you?"

Akazawa studied the shoes for a moment and then smiled a little.

"I guess they're Mizuki's kind of shoes," he said, and put them back on the shelf.

Yuuta crossed his arms, ignoring the want to ask "can we go now?" He wanted to hurry up and get back so he could call Aniki. He really wanted to know.

"Oi…"

Yuuta looked up again, expecting another pair of shoes. "Huh?"

Akazawa cast him an irritated look for a moment, then his expression softened and he lowered his voice. "Isn't that one of Hyoutei's players over there?" he said, picking up one of the shoeboxes next to Yuuta.

Yuuta looked up quickly, standing up when he realised he couldn't see over the shelves around them. He turned quickly, nearly a full circle before he heard voices coming from another of the aisles and saw a couple of school uniformed kids standing at the end of one of the aisles. He had to stare for a moment or two until one of them turned his head, and when he did, Yuuta felt a heavy thud in his chest.

He couldn't remember the boy's name, but he was definitely a Hyoutei player, and he was definitely a regular.

"It is…" he muttered quickly, quietly. "Are you done? Let's go…"

Akazawa didn't move for a minute and Yuuta frowned at him. He held his tongue, but he really wanted to say more to him.

"Okay…" his captain finally agreed, picking up two boxes of shoes and looking around for the shop assistant who'd been standing around a few minutes before. He couldn't see her, so they walked to the counter. There was no one there, and Yuuta cursed all the stupid giggly teenage girls. They were probably having a gossip session in the store room while they thought there were no important customers to look after.

_Girls_, he thought.

Akazawa spotted a bell on the counter, so he pressed it a couple of times, and they stood and waited some more.

Yuuta tried to listen to the voices from before but he couldn't really hear them from here, right in front of a set of speakers blasting pop songs, so he kept his eyes to the floor and his back to as much of the shop as possible and wished someone would come and serve them.

"Akazawa-buchou."

"What?"

"You don't need to buy anything else after this, do you?" Yuuta asked a little sceptically.

Akazawa looked a little amused for a moment, giving Yuuta a steady look. "I don't think so, unless there's something you want to buy," he replied, looking thoughtful. "Is there…"

He trailed off, looking as though he'd just remembered something. "I thought you needed new wristbands."

Yuuta shook his head hurriedly. "Not really."

Akazawa gave him a look – the I'm-captain-and-you're-not look – and looked over toward the section marked "apparel and accessories".

Yuuta didn't think it was fair. He didn't really see why it was that captains were so good at doing that, even though they weren't even on a tennis court right now and they weren't even at school and –

"Oh hey! I know you!"

Yuuta grit his teeth at the sound of the voice right behind him. Instinctively fearing the worst, he turned around.

"Oh."

"Hey!" the voice repeated, "you're Fuji Syuusuke's little brother, aren't you? I remember we played a while ago. Do you remember me? I'm Akutagawa Jirou."

Yuuta really didn't need the introduction. He remembered being beaten, steamrolled, trampled, bounced on… Oh, why couldn't he just forget it? It was embarrassing. Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen –

He looked up, realising that Jirou was talking again and that there were another three Hyoutei players walking up to them. He shifted on the spot, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, even as he realised Akazawa was talking to them.

"So are you actually buying something or are you standing here for decoration?"

"Er…" was Yuuta's response, as he awkwardly moved away from the counter and then glared, confused.

Why did he do that? Because it was a Hyoutei brat asking him and Hyoutei brats were stuck up, snot nosed and way too rich for their own good? The one who'd demanded that he move was wearing a cap and what looked like a plaster just next to his eyebrow, and he turned around again when Jirou called out "Shishido".

"What?" he answered, looking unimpressed as he dropped some stuff onto the counter.

Yuuta also looked then, and realised that the store girls were coming back, and that they looked like they were carrying half the shop and why the hell were they taking so long anyway? Hadn't they ever heard of serving customers? What were they –

His mind went blank as he realised he was staring at exactly the person he wasn't ready to see right now.

He saw the flick of the hair first; watched the way every strand seemed to settle back perfectly into place, and saw the self-confident look in his eyes and the arched eyebrow and the look of slight annoyance as he turned to one of the boys and then…

He was looking at Yuuta.

And Yuuta saw the surprise on his face, and the way he let his hands fall to his sides, forgetting to put them at his hips instead, the way his lips just parted as he forget to put that bored expression on his face…

He wondered what his own face looked like right now. He probably looked stupid. Atobe was probably wondering why he was walking around with a bruise the size of Mount Fuji on his face. Maybe he should open his mouth and say something. That was what people normally did, right?

Why wasn't Atobe saying anything? Why wasn't _he_ saying anything? He opened his mouth.

"A-"

"Atobe-san, do you want everything delivered to you or will you be taking it with you now?" a voice interrupted.

Yuuta and Atobe both turned to stare at the girl.

"I… Uh…" Atobe began, looking confused.

Then Jirou elbowed him, and Atobe shot him a look before snapping "have it delivered this afternoon, and put it on my account. And Jirou, is there a reason you feel the need to elbow Ore-sama?"

Yuuta watched the way Jirou simply grinned and gave a quick shake of his head.

Atobe raised an eyebrow at him.

Shishido said something under his breath and the boy next to him laughed.

The really tall boy behind Atobe simply stared straight ahead.

And suddenly Yuuta felt like he wasn't just looking at Atobe anymore. He was looking at Hyoutei, and Atobe was their captain. And he was… a player who lost to one of Atobe's regulars in fifteen minutes flat.

"What happened to your face?"

Atobe's voice cut through Yuuta's thoughts.

"Nothing."

Atobe gave a frown; a slight look of irritation at Yuuta's answer. Yuuta felt his heart beating quickly, nervousness and guilt suddenly rushing through him. Before he could take it back or even say anything more, Akazawa was excusing them both and his feet were pulling him toward the door.

(S)

"Atobe," Jirou frowned. "Should we go and get ice cream now?"

The shake of the head was definite. "Actually… I just remembered I have something to do," Atobe answered.

"You can stay here; I don't need you," he said quickly to Kabaji, one hand thrust into his pocket as he left and glanced up and down the street.

Yuuta was already gone, but that was okay. Atobe suddenly didn't feel ready to talk to him face to face anyway.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and hesitated in calling his driver. Why was it that he used this stupid thing millions of times a day, taking calls, making calls, talking… to everyone but Yuuta?

If that was the question, then the answer was probably that he had no idea what it was he wanted to say.

He wasn't really sure if Yuuta even wanted to listen.

.tbc.


	18. Chapter 17 point 5

Notes: This is not an Atoyuu chapter XD This is actually Ootori/Shishido; a bit of an interlude really. The story of Atobe and Yuuta continued next chapter :D

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D Thank you to everyone reviewing this story so far and especially to Aynon, who left a huge review that just made me laugh XD

**Satisfaction**

** 17.5; Seventeen point five**

By Miki

"Choutarou," Shishido said, glancing nonchalantly over his shoulder.

"Huh?" Ootori looked up from the paper he was holding. "Sorry, Shishido-senpai!" he apologised, quickly, hurrying his steps to catch up to the other boy.

"Hey, stop looking at that stupid thing already," Shishido complained a little, narrowing his eyes at the essay Ootori had been studying ever since they left school. He snatched it from Ootori's hands quickly, flicking the pages roughly until he reached the last page with Ootori's grade on it.

"Jeez," he whined, "it's not even that bad! Why're you so annoyed about it?"

Ootori snatched the paper back, frowning at his senpai, cheeks flushed a dusky pink. "I just wanted a better mark, that's all. Is there something wrong with that?"

Shishido blinked, a little surprised at Ootori's reaction. "What's so bad about an eighteen?" he grumbled, shoving a hand into his pocket jerkily. "Just practise writing more."

"It's not an eighteen," Ootori mumbled, sounding more than a little sulky. "It's a 17.5, and you know what? Hiroya got a nineteen and I saw his essay and mine was better."

Shishido struggled for a moment to remember who Hiroya was. He remembered the name, and he knew he didn't like the guy but he couldn't remember why… Ah, that's right. He was the brat in Ootori's class who had the habit of sticking to him.

"I just really wanted…" Ootori trailed off, feeling stupid. He glanced at Shishido's face, feeling the blood rushing to his ears. What was he talking about? Shishido-senpai didn't want to hear about this type of stuff.

"Sorry," he said, bowing his head slightly.

Shishido grunted a little, eyes looking straight forward as they walked.

"Hey… Shishido-senpai?" Ootori asked, pushing his essay back into his bag and stepping a little closer. He licked his lips, watching the way Shishido refused to look at him.

"Are you-"

Shishido cut him off quickly. "Hey, you know about Atobe…"

Ootori tilted his head slightly. "What about him?" he asked hesitantly. A funny little feeling passed through his chest quickly; tight, feeling like it was spreading heat through his body. Shishido-senpai wasn't thinking about Atobe, was he?

"Do you think he really has a girlfriend?" Shishido looked away as he spoke.

Ootori wasn't sure how to respond.

"… Doesn't he?" he asked in return, a moment later. "I mean… I thought maybe there was a girl he liked, but maybe they're not…" He turned a little pink as he spoke. "Maybe they're not dating yet, right?"

Shishido didn't respond.

"Choutarou, don't you think it's weird that… none of us have girlfriends?"

"Eh? Why would I think that, Shishido-san?" Ootori asked quickly, confused as to where the conversation was going.

Shishido was silent again, and Ootori's fingers fiddled with the pockets of his trousers for a moment. He wasn't really sure what Shishido was thinking, but he'd been really weird this afternoon, like he was lost in thinking about something else. It hurt Choutarou to think that when Shishido was like this sometimes, he didn't tell him why…

"What about that girl the other day?" Shishido asked suddenly, breaking the odd silence again.

"Um… what girl?" Ootori blinked, wondering what Shishido was talking about this for.

"The one with the cute hair and funny shoes," Shishido snapped back, turning and shooting his friend a slightly uncomfortable glare.

"Um… Oh, that one," Choutarou blushed. He'd almost forgotten about that girl, but now that Shishido was talking about her again… The other day she'd come and confessed to him while he was eating lunch… with Shishido. So of course he'd remember her.

"You know I'm not good with girls," he said jokingly, giving Shishido a smile. "I'll probably never get one like this…"

Shishido ignored the comment. He didn't care if Ootori was bad with girls. They still flocked to him like he was magnetised. He'd seen his friend's locker on Valentine's Day, and he'd counted at least five girls who'd confessed to him while they were eating lunch this term alone!

Every time it happened, he felt like telling them to go away and find some other sucker to take their letters and presents and pretty words. Idiots.

They didn't even know Ootori. They just liked his face and his regular's spot and his stupid, dumb, goofy, shy, too-nice personality.

Everyone did.

And sometimes he'd admit to himself that he was jealous, because sometimes… it made him want to monopolise his friend, and keep him for himself. It made him feel just like a selfish kid.

Seeing Atobe acting like an idiot about a girl was making him realise that sooner or later, Ootori would probably be acting the same way. And… He didn't really want to see it when it happened.

He heard Ootori speaking again, and ignored him. Sometimes he knew he was jealous of those girls because they took away his time with Ootori. Other times, he was jealous because he knew that Ootori didn't look at him the same way he looked at girls.

Girls were small. Their hands were small and their bodies were soft to the touch. They had those long, fluttery eyelashes and big eyes and soft, long hair, and their voices were high and soft and he wasn't any of those things at all. And he envied them because they were always doing what he couldn't.

If he had any guts, he'd probably admit he liked Ootori. But then, what after that? He couldn't confess, because confessing was for girls.

He realised that Ootori was silent, and suddenly looked around him, realising he was standing all alone.

What the…?

(S)

Ootori hurried out of the shop, seeing Shishido a couple metres up the footpath. "Shishido-senpai! I asked you to wait outside the shop," he half-complained and half-worried as he rushed back to him.

"Huh?"

Ootori sighed. It felt like he'd been having a really weird conversation with someone who wasn't really thinking the same thoughts at all, and Shishido still seemed really out of it. Jeez, everyone was being weird lately.

Oshitari and Mukahi were always whispering and plotting, and Atobe was always looking cranky or depressed because of that girl (well, Oshitari said odds were 5 to 1 it was the girl and 27 to 1 it was his hair…) and now Shishido-senpai too!

"Here," he said, holding out the cup of hot coffee to Shishido, looking away as his senpai took the paper cup from him. "You seem really tired."

Shishido took a sip, realising that was where Ootori had disappeared to. Honestly, who needed shop-bought coffee when he could just go home and make some? Wasn't it a waste of money? But Hyotei students were good at wasting money, right? Sometimes it reminded Shihsido that he was just a little different to everyone else there.

Then he glanced at Ootori and realised he wasn't holding a cup at all.

"Hey, how come you're not drinking anything?"

Ootori shrugged. "I'm not thirsty."

Shishido grunted, looking away as they continued walking.

The footpaths here were pretty quiet, so they didn't have to struggle to hear each other over crowds, and they could walk as slowly as they wanted. It was nice, Shishido thought.

He kind of liked walking like this with Ootori.

Just two of them. No Atobe in sight, no Sakaki and no Mukahi.

"Hey," he said, thinking of Atobe and Yuu-chan again. "Do you think Atobe's serious about that girl?"

Ootori shrugged, feeling a bit weird.

He didn't like Shishido talking so much about girls. It made him feel weird. He knew Shishido was a year above him, and sometimes he really felt like it made them different somehow. Sometimes he told himself that was stupid, but then, lately he always seemed to be looking for the evidence that there was some difference between them; that Shishido was actually older, or that he was more experienced… or something.

"Why are you asking anyway?" he couldn't help but ask, curiosity getting the better of him.

"No reason," Shishido retorted quickly, sounding more than a little defensive. "I just thought if you hurried up and got a stupid girlfriend, then all those girls could stop interrupting our lunch all the time," he grumbled.

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he blinked. That wasn't what he'd meant to say at all…

"But if I had a girlfriend, then I wouldn't be able to spend so much time with you, Shishido-senpai," Ootori protested.

Shishido took a long sip of his coffee through the plastic straw, wincing at having so much hot liquid in his mouth. He swallowed and gave a shrug.

Ootori frowned a little at Shishido's response. He was starting to feel really nervous.

It wasn't like Shishido-senpai to stubbornly stick to a topic like this… or even to talk about something like girls. They never normally talked about girls.

Girls.

"Is there a girl you like, Shihisdo-san?" he asked quickly, suddenly stricken with the thought that maybe that was why Shishido was asking.

Oh, but what if there was? What was he supposed to do then? He hurriedly looked over at Shishido, casting him a glance out of the corner of his eye that he hoped the boy wouldn't notice.

His cheeks were really pink, and Ootori recognised the way Shishido was standing meant… he was really embarrassed.

"Shishido-senpai! Who is it?"

Oh no. He really shouldn't have asked. He didn't think he wanted to know the answer.

"I… I'm not telling you," Shishido said quickly, shoving his drink at Ootori as a distraction.

Ootori took the paper cup from him and sipped the last bit of coffee. It was only lukewarm now, and it was way too sweet for his taste.

"Shishido-senpai… Can't you tell-"

"You know, this is kind of like dating anyway," Shishido suddenly said, causing Ootori to scrunch the empty cup as he gripped it tightly.

"Ah, what do you mean?" he asked nervously, heart suddenly beating a ferverish beat in his chest. The way Shishido said the words, he sounded totally bored, like he wasn't even caring what he said, but… What sort of person said those kinds of words without meaning something?

Ootori wondered if he was being too hopeful. Was it okay to be hopeful about something like this?

"Ah, nothing!" Shishido replied quickly, eyes a little wide in susprise. He couldn't believe he was hearing these words… out of his own mouth. He quickly glanced at Ootori's face, but his expression was unreadable.

He couldn't really tell what the other boy was thinking, and he was glad that at least they were nearly at the corner where they usually split up.

Ootori threw the cup into a nearby rubbish bin and turned around to Shishido again, who was already turning to go.

"So… see you tomo-"

"Wait."

Shishido looked down at Ootori's hand on his sleeve, looked across at Ootori's eyes fixed on the ground. "What?" he demanded quickly, impatience making up for the tightness in his chest. He needed to get out of here fast, before Ootori thought something weird. Before he noticed…

"Um… well…" Ootori began, painfully slowly.

Shishido frowned.

"Do you want to…?" Ootori corrected himself, raising his eyes to meet Shishido's.

"Want to what?" Shishido responded, annoyed.

Ootori sucked in a breath. "Do you want to go out with me?"

There was silence. Neither boy spoke for a moment; fast, nervous heartbeats all they could hear in their ears.

Next to them, the traffic flew past silently.

"Shishido-san?" Ootori ventured.

Shishido snorted. He quickly turned his head, hiding his face from Ootori. He couldn't believe Ootori just said that. Was he joking? No, Ootori didn't joke about things like this…

"I… It's just that I… Well, you said it's like we're kind of dating already, right?" Ootori explained hurriedly, "and I really… I like you!"

Shishido smiled a little, face still turned away from Ootori. Oh, what the hell was in that coffee that was making them both blurt out this stuff?

"So I… Shishido-san…" Ootori continued, sounding so uncertain that Shishido had to say something before the younger boy lost heart.

It was possibly the most romantic response to a confession he'd ever given.

"Yeah, whatever."

(S)

He didn't feel it coming, but one minute he was standing there, and the next he was standing there and Ootori had thrown his arms around him from behind with a loud "Oh! Shishido-senpai!"

"Hey, Choutarou?" he asked embarrassedly. "What are you doing?" He could feel his ears turning red.

"Shishido-san?"

"What?"

"Can we go on a date?"

Shishido pretended to consider for a moment. "… If you let go of me."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now," Shishido scowled, rolling his eyes.

(S)

"I meant let go of me right now, not to go on a date right now," Shishido half-protested.

Ootori was dragging him by his sleeve, eagerness getting the better of him.

"Wait!" The younger boy suddenly said loudly, stopping and turning around to face Shishido. "I just realised…"

"What?" Shishido asked suspiciously, recognising the look on Ootori's face.

"Hey, Shishido-senpai? If we're dating, does that mean I can k-kiss you?"

Shishido shifted a little uncomfortably. The hopeful look on Ootori's face made him feel weird, like he was kicking a puppy if he said no.

"J-Just shut up and do it if you want to," he scowled, crossing his arms in front of his chest and making a noise of annoyance.

Ootori's face was as red as a tomato. Shishido wasn't looking any better.

"O-Okay," Ootori stuttered a little. "Then… I'm doing it now."

"Stupid! I said just-"

But Ootori cut him off. He shyly raised his hands and held them gently to Shishido's face. His lips met Shishido's slowly; uncertainly, as Shishido awkwardly pulled him closer.

It wasn't a perfect kiss.

Shishido's mouth tasted like sweet coffee. Ootori's body felt too hot too close to Shishido. Their mouths moved awkwardly, uncoordinated against each other and they pulled apart a little breathlessly.

The corners of Shishido's lips twitched as he looked at Ootori, who burst into laughter.

"Oh, that was awful Shishido-san!"

"Shut up! You're not any better, Choutarou!"

(S)

"Do you think I'd get a pass if you were grading me?" Choutarou asked, feeling silly.

Shishido rolled his eyes, trying not to smile at his friend's childishness. "No."

"Not at all?"

Shishido gave him a long look. "Maybe an eight point five," he conceded, half-joking.

"Out of ten?" Choutarou asked hopefully.

Shishido gave him a deadpanned look. "Out of twenty."

"Eh? That's even worse than my essay!"

Shishido smiled a little. "Right."

Choutarou smiled back, pink still tinting his cheeks. "So can I practise on you now?"

"No."

"But how will I get better if I don't practise?"

"Tomorrow."

"Can I stay over at your house tonight then?"

"No."

"But it'll be tomorrow in a few hours."

"… Choutarou."

"So, at school then?"

"Definitely no!"

"Just one more? Now?"

"… Fine. Just hurry up and do it already."

"Shishido-san…" Ootori gave him that look; not the puppy dog look. It was the other one; the other one like he was staring at Shishido and seeing a halo or something.

"Stop staring at me like that," Shishido complained, grabbing Ootori. "I said, if you're going to do it, just do it already or I'm going home," he snapped, and Ootori grinned.

He really didn't have a clue why he'd blurted out what he did today – after all, he'd been thinking it for… a really long time without ever saying anything before – but he was glad he did.

He pulled off Shishido's blue baseball cap quickly, feeling like a kid with a box of candy.

Shishido's cheeks were bright pink, eyes wide with surprise and then narrowed in annoyance, and before Ootori realised it, Shishido had pulled him closer and pressed his lips to Ootori's.

And Ootori thought that it was better than anything else. Better than acing Jirou. Better than beating Seigaku. Better than a seventeen point five. This was perfect.

.tbc.


	19. Chapter 18

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D Actually I just feel like saying thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story, but especially to Merissala for leaving comments for every chapter XD I wasn't expecting it at all so it made me really happy :D

We're actually nearly at the end of this story, so I'll babble more next chapter XD

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 18

By Miki

Atobe put his mobile back down on his desk, a frown on his face. He really couldn't see why Yuuta's phone should be switched off at a time like this, and the stupid "This mobile phone is currently switched off and unavailable. Please try again later" woman was starting to peeve him. 

Checking his watch, he figured that Yuuta should be back at the dormitory by now, and scrolled through his address book until he found the number for the office.

As he heard the phone ring, he hoped it wouldn't be that annoying man picking it up again. Right now, the last thing he wanted was to have to speak to that stupid idiot who couldn't even get his name right. But luck wasn't with Atobe.

"Hello, this is St Rudolph's boys dormitory. Hanashima Kei speaking," came the drawling voice on the other end of the phone.

Atobe drummed his fingers on his desk, biting back the urge to waste his words in insulting the stupid man. Instead, he took a deep breath and decided to make things quick. "This is Atobe Keigo calling. May I please speak to Fuji Yuuta?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Oh, it's Adobe again? I'm sorry but Yuuta isn't here right now," Hanashima responded, not sounding sorry at all.

Atobe frowned.

"Actually, it's A_to_be, and what do you mean he's not there?"

Hanashima made a noise of irritation.

"Well, he isn't in the dormitory so I can't tell you where he is. I don't have ESP, Adobe-san."

"It's Atobe," Atobe snapped back, picking up his pen and gripping it tightly. "Look, I'm going to leave a message for Yuuta, so you had better pass it on to him absolutely verbatim, or I'm not going to waste my breath. Are you listening?"

"That's one message for one Fuji Yuuta from one Adobe Keigo…" Atobe heard mumbled, and twitched.

When Atobe didn't reply, Hanashima rolled his eyes a little. "Am I supposed to be handing Yuuta a blank message? Because I can, if that's what you want."

Atobe's pen snapped. "Okay, Hana_ji_ma, here's what I want you to tell him…"

"Actually, it's Hanashima."

"Like I said, Hana_ji_ma," Atobe drawled, "I'm speaking and you're writing so start listening."

(S)

"Fuji Yuuta!"

A shudder passed through Yuuta's body at the sound of that voice. He turned around where he stood and walked slowly back toward the office, giving a slight glare to the guy behind the counter. "Yes?"

He received a frown in response, and crossed his arms as he realised he was probably going to have to listen to a lecture or two. "While you were _out_," the man began, "you had several phone calls from your brother and sister and – Are you listening Fuji Yuuta?"

"Huh? Yeah," Yuuta scowled, trying to look as grumpy as possible. This old guy was always so annoying.

Peering over the top of his glasses for a moment, lips downturned, the man surveyed Yuuta. Then, deciding that this was as attentive as Yuuta got, he flicked the page of paper in his hand and ran a finger down it. "Well then, I'll assume you want to know what they were calling about, shall I? At 3:31 this afternoon, one Fuji Syuusuke called, asking you if you preferred… the nurse's uniform with flat shoes or with heels…"

Yuuta let out a strangled kind of sound, earning him a raised eyebrow before the list was again flicked and the finger continued down the page.

"After that, there was a call at 3:39 from a Fuji Yumiko, who wanted to let you know that Fuji Syuusuke would not be seeing you today because he was busy. Alas, your sister did not say with what he was busy, as I'm sure I'd like to know…"

Yuuta shook his head quickly. He wouldn't want to know even if Hanashima could tell him.

"At 4:22, there was another call from Fuji Syuusuke, telling you that you need not worry about returning his last call, but could you please turn on your mobile. At 4:24, your sister again, calling to tell you not to turn on your mobile phone and that Fuji Syuusuke would not be able to visit you for the next week because he was going to be unexpectedly busy detaching himself from the leg of the kitchen table. At 4:49, another call from one Fuji Syuusuke…" Hanashima paused. "And dare I say it, you ought to keep your siblings away from the telephone, Fuji Yuuta."

Yuuta sighed, abandoning trying to glare at the man and instead rubbing his hand against his forehead.

Aniki.

"Oh, that's right, the next call was from an Atobe Keigo. That's Atobe, not Adobe, and he wanted to tell you that there's no point in owning a mobile telephone if you're never going to turn it on and could you please-"

He paused.

"Yuuta? Where are you going?"

There was no reply.

"Yuuta?"

Hanashima stood up and peered over the counter, but Yuuta was already disappearing up the stairs.

(S)

Oshitari leaned back against the locker with a look of annoyance on his face. He wasn't about to admit it, but Atobe was doing rather a good job of keeping Yuu-chan a secret. In four afternoons, all he and Gakuto had seen were the normalities of Atobe's daily routines.

They'd seen one manicure, one pedicure, one facial and two body massages, one visit to a public library, one visit to a bookstore, several visits to Atobe's usual shopping places, a visit to an ice cream parlour with Jirou and numerous trips in the limousine. But they hadn't seen a single sign of the elusive Yuu-chan.

Of course, Oshitari had pointed out, it would help if they had a clue what they were looking for.

Mukahi had somehow gotten it into his head that Yuu-chan was a cute, little sort of girl with a big mouth that was obviously bigger than Atobe's because otherwise he couldn't imagine Atobe paying attention to anyone else at all. But she was probably still little and cute, because Atobe wouldn't like someone who was taller than he was, and most girls weren't anyway, which was convenient.

Then somewhere along the way, he'd also decided she probably wasn't a Hyoutei student, or everyone would have heard about it by now. That, and there was something about Hyoutei girls…

Oshitari hadn't told Gakuto that he was lacking any empirical evidence to back up his assumptions, but that was okay.

No, if Atobe had really wanted to date a Hyoutei girl, he'd just have asked her out and everyone would have known about it five minutes later, Oshitari thought. Atobe was being really secretive about it, which seemed to imply that he was either afraid of people intruding upon their privacy, or perhaps…

"Hey," Mukahi's voice interrupted his train of thought.

Oshitari looked down, remembering he'd been in the middle of changing his clothes.

Mukahi sat next to him on the bench, a piece of cake bar in his hand. "I think it would be faster if we stole his phone," he said, bluntly.

Oshitari pushed up his glasses with a finger and regarded his friend with amusement. "I suspect you'd find that rather hard to do," he mused, unbuttoning his shirt.

Mukahi looked put out for a moment, frowning and taking a large bite of his cake. "But Yuushi, isn't that the easiest way to do it? It's easier than following him around, don't you think?"

Oshitari smiled. Mukahi was taking this all so seriously. Personally, he did find it rather an amusing thought that Atobe was worrying over, of all things, a girl, and it was fun to tease the other boy about it… But after tramping around after Atobe for four afternoons already, he was starting to wonder about Yuu-chan.

It was entirely possible, after all, that things weren't as they seemed.

"What are you talking about?"

Oshitari looked across the room at the sound of the voice. He hadn't even noticed the door open, but apparently it had, since Shishido and Ootori were now making their way in. He gave a shrug in response to Shishido's question, and stared for a moment at the two.

Was it just his imagination, or were they standing even closer to each other than usual? Most days Ootori gave him the impression that he'd like to glue himself to his dear Shishido-senpai, but today it almost looked as though he'd succeeded.

Curiosity piqued, Oshitari finished tying his shoelaces and leaned back against the locker again to wait for Atobe's appearance. He was late.

"So," he began, eyeing Shishido, "do anything interesting on the weekend?"

Nevermind the fact that today was Tuesday and he'd seen the two of them yesterday; he had a feeling he must have missed something.

Shishido hesitated in answering for a moment. "Shopping," he finally said, hurrying to change his clothes.

"Oh?"

"With Atobe," Ootori clarified.

"Ah," Oshitari said, for lack of anything else to say to that. He'd thought maybe there was something else to it, but perhaps it really was his imagination after all. All this thinking about Yuu-chan was apparently messing with his head.

"Where?" he enquired, now suddenly bored of the conversation.

"Usual place," Shishido grunted, picking up his racquet and stretching his arms above his head.

"Oh, I assume Atobe bought the entire store then," Oshitari drawled, watching Mukahi lace up his sneakers.

"Almost," came Shishido's reply, and Oshitari couldn't really say he was sorry for having turned down that invitation – perhaps he ought to say it was more of a demand – in favour of more pleasurable activities.

Shopping trips with Atobe tended to be tedious and long, and from what Oshitari had seen of Atobe's shopping habits, those sorts of trips only really served to remind one how much money Atobe could spend on a plastic credit card, and how fast he could spend it.

"Don't you have anything better to do on the weekend?" Gakuto suddenly asked, growing irritated at the fact that Oshitari was ignoring him.

Shishido scowled for a moment, assuming – correctly – that Gakuto's childish jibe was directed at him. "At least I wasn't at home stuffing myself with cake," was the only thing he could retort with.

He was feeling really scatterbrained today. It probably had something to do with Ootori, but he didn't really want to think about it right now. He'd thought about it during English and now he had a 500-word essay to write as punishment.

"We bumped into some of the St Rudolph players there," Ootori interrupted, changing the topic slightly.

Gakuto looked annoyed.

"St Rudolph? Oh, those guys," Oshitari mused. "How are they? Still losing, I suppose."

There was a click and four sets of eyes looked toward the door as it opened. "What are you talking about?" Jirou asked, blinking at all the attention focused on him.

"St Rudolph," Ootori answered, with a slight sigh of relief.

Jirou smiled. "Really? That was fun on Sunday, wasn't it? Too bad Atobe didn't want ice cream afterwards, but seeing Akazawa and Fuji was kind of interesting, wasn't it?"

"Fuji?" Oshitari interrupted quickly.

He stared at Jirou for a moment, wondering why Ootori and Shishido hadn't mentioned Fuji.

"Oh, you know, Fuji Syuusuke's little brother," Jirou smiled, happily. "His name's Fuji Y-"

He stopped suddenly, frowning.

"Oh, the _other_ Fuji," Oshitari sighed, tiring of waiting.

He made his way to the door, not caring whether Atobe was here or not. He was probably somewhere playing with his phone again, as he seemed more and more prone to doing lately. Mukahi did have a point when he said stealing Atobe's phone would be faster than trailing him…

Mukahi followed Oshitari out of the clubroom, glad to get away from Shishido. He ignored the way Jirou was staring after him. The boy probably just didn't get enough sleep or something.

"Jirou-senpai?" Ootori asked, after a moment.

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?"

Jirou blinked, and looked at Ootori's smiling face. "Er, yes?"

Ootori couldn't help but laugh at the look on Jirou's face. "Are you sure?" he questioned, wondering if he ought to do something.

Jirou smiled and nodded his head a little. "I just realised something, that's all."

(S)

Yuuta opened his desk drawer. He stared at the phone in there for a moment, and then slid the drawer shut again. Picking up his pen, he flicked the pages of his mathematics textbook for a moment, then he sighed and opened the drawer again.

It seemed like a long time since he'd seen Atobe, and even after the phone message – the one he hadn't listened to at all – he couldn't… He just didn't _want_ to turn on his phone.

Maybe it was because he was being stupid about the whole thing.

He could see the bag with Atobe's books in it, and he stared at it. It was still there, just under his bed where he'd put it the other day. Truthfully, he couldn't even remember which books Atobe had lent to him at all.

(S)

Mizuki knocked on Yuuta's door and opened it, not waiting for a reply.

"Mizuki," Yuuta said, having turned around at the noise.

"Are you still studying that thing?" Mizuki asked, a little annoyed.

"Yeah," Yuuta sighed a little.

He fingered the cover of the book, embarrassed in case Mizuki noticed the number of words he'd been writing down in his notebook beside him. Atobe's books were hard to read.

"Why are you reading those books anyway?" Mizuki asked, dropping down onto the edge of Yuuta's bed. "Why don't you just give them back?"

Yuuta didn't look at him. "I want to read them," he replied, turning another page and deliberately ignoring the other boy.

"Well, it's your choice," Mizuki said flatly, unimpressed.

He didn't particularly care if Yuuta wanted to waste his time struggling through English novels, but he couldn't really see any benefit in it. Besides, he wasn't about to admit it, but he was annoyed Yuuta thought more of Atobe's English than he did of his.

(S)

Later, when Mizuki had left, Yuuta stopped reading and sat, with his finger marking the page he was up to.

He didn't like reading them; Mizuki was right. There was nothing fun about the books Atobe had lent to him. It was just that Atobe had lent them to him, and he didn't want to give them back and have to admit he hadn't touched them.

That, and if he took a week or two to read them… He'd have more time until he saw Atobe again.

Opening his desk drawer, he stared miserably at his telephone. His fingers twitched, holding the book still. A part of him really wanted to turn it on, just to see if Atobe had sent him anything.

A part of him also really wanted to see Atobe.

But in the back of his mind, he wasn't really sure what he was going to say to Atobe when he saw him again. And so he closed the drawer again, sighing, as he found his spot in the book and started reading again.

.tbc.


	20. Chapter 19

Archive: NO.

Reviews: Appreciated. :D This is the second to last chapter of this story, by the way XD After the final chapter, there's actually a sequel so I hope you'll stick around for it.

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 19

By Miki

It was ironic, Yuuta's English teacher thought, that her student had apparently spent more than three hours studying English the night before her lesson, but had entirely forgotten he was supposed to hand up an essay today.

She wondered whether she was supposed to believe him or not, and watched him for a moment from her desk. He didn't look as though he was paying any attention to what was going on in the classroom, though she suspected he never normally paid attention anyway. Still, she reasoned, it didn't really matter whether she thought he was telling the truth or not. She wouldn't penalise him as long as he handed up his essay today.

And what better way to ensure he'd write it than to give him detention?

(S)

"Atobe?" Jirou smiled.

Atobe leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms. It was the beginning of their English class – the second class of the day – and Jirou was already looking sleepy.

"I was just wondering… You know, about the mouse and the cheese and –"

"Jirou, we've already been through this," Atobe corrected quickly, a little annoyed. He wondered why Jirou was suddenly bringing this up again.

He didn't want anyone else to overhear this sort of thing and the classroom was hardly the most discreet choice of location.

He could swear the girl next to him was listening to his conversation because people who were usually concentrating on finishing their last-minute homework usually didn't draw lines that ran off the paper and onto the desk.

"But Atobe, it's just that I was thinking…" Jirou pressed on, ignoring Atobe's tone, "could I do anything to help… help things with Yuuta?"

(S)

Atobe stepped into the lobby of St Rudolph's boys' dormitory, eyes immediately flicking toward the counter and finding an unexpected face there.

_Unwanted_ too.

_Mizuki_.

He hesitated for a moment, and wondered if it was a good idea he'd come at all. His hands were sweaty and he felt hot in his blazer, but… Since when did he care so much about what other people thought of him? He'd left practise early, had the bother of enduring rush-hour traffic to get here, and now that he was actually standing here, he wasn't going to give Mizuki the satisfaction of seeing him leave without seeing Yuuta.

Perhaps because of the time of day, there were a lot of students going in and out of the building. Some of the ones walking in had sports bags, and Atobe was pretty sure Yuuta should have finished training by now. If Mizuki was sitting at the desk, Yuuta should probably be up in his room already.

Trying to ignore the feeling he was being stared at – and not in the nice way he was used to – he raised an eyebrow at the boy behind the counter. Somehow, it felt a little like déjà vu…

"Mizuki."

A pair of eyes looked up at him quickly, surprise covered up quickly by a look of severe annoyance.

"Atobe."

"Is Yuuta in?"

Mizuki pursed his lips for a moment and gave a quick answer.

"No."

"Oh," Atobe said, glancing toward the stairs. He'd never been past the lobby before, but it struck him now that Mizuki could be lying or telling the truth and he'd never know unless he asked Yuuta later…

Not that that seemed like it was going to happen. Maybe Yuuta just didn't want to see him.

The effects of Jirou's unwanted – but still appreciated, even if he wasn't about to admit it – pep talk were starting to wear off. Confidence was something Atobe had never been short of, but whenever it came to Yuuta lately, he just didn't know what he was doing.

Even his mother had noticed it, which really said something, considering the amount of time they spent together was possibly less than what Atobe spent with his chauffeur.

Atobe recognised through his jumbled thoughts that Mizuki was talking to him. But he really couldn't care less what the other boy was saying, and he merely stepped out again through the glass doors and started walking back to the limousine.

What if this was it? What if…

Atobe pushed a hand into his pocket, the other still clutched around the book he'd been playing with while in the limo.

_Wait_…

Atobe looked down at the book quickly. It wasn't one he was going to lend to Yuuta, but all of a sudden, it made him think… He didn't even like the book. There was nothing fun about reading it, but he was doing it because he _had_ to. Because he'd been _instructed_ to.

… Just like so many other things in his life.

What was he moping about for? Was he really so stupid he'd give up something – and someone – he really liked over something so little?

His spare hand felt quickly in his pocket for a pen and a piece of paper… A scrap or a receipt even –

Anything he could write on.

He knew exactly what he wanted to say to Yuuta.

(S)

"Mizuki-san?"

Mizuki ignored Yuuta's voice.

"Mizuki-san?"

People who earned themselves extra-long detentions and thus missed practise were not, in his opinion, deserving of his attention. Even if it was Yuuta. And even if he was technically Mizuki's favourite player.

"Um… Mizuki-san? I'm sorry for missing practise today," Yuuta persisted, leaning close to him across the counter.

"What?" Mizuki looked up sharply, frowning.

Yuuta stepped back quickly, straightening his back. "Er, well… The thing was –" he began explaining, only to be cut off by Mizuki.

"Here," Mizuki pushed a book across the counter.

Yuuta blinked and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. "What's this?"

Mizuki looked unimpressed.

"It's a book. Isn't that obvious?"

Yuuta flushed a little. "But, I mean… Where did it-"

"Atobe left it for you," Mizuki replied curtly, cutting Yuuta off again.

"Atobe?" Yuuta suddenly blurted out. He swallowed, quickly, nervously, trying to hide the funny feelings he felt just at the mention of Atobe's name, but they were written all over his face.

Why had Atobe come here? It couldn't have just been to drop off the book, could it? "When… When did he come?" he asked Mizuki, and Mizuki frowned at the urgency in Yuuta's voice. He sighed, twirling a piece of hair in an effort to look bored as he looked up at the clock on the wall.

"Oh, about five minutes ago."

"Five minutes," Yuuta repeated, heart thumping quickly in his chest.

He looked down at the book, flicking through it quickly, wondering why Atobe would lend it to him. At least, if he came to lend him a book, it meant he didn't not want to see him… right? It meant…

Yuuta swallowed. He really needed to apologise to Atobe… about not seeing him, and not returning his calls, and turning off his phone…

Yuuta stopped flicking the pages as a small piece of paper fell out and fluttered to the ground. He looked down at it, confused for a moment before he picked it up and looked at it carefully. It looked like it could be a bookmark that Atobe had left in there by accident, but…

Yuuta turned it over.

There, on the scrap of white paper was Atobe's handwriting. It wasn't neat, or messy, but Yuuta remembered seeing his writing when he'd been in Atobe's room.

The note he'd written wasn't special. The words weren't poetic, or even sweet; they were straight to the point and demanding… But they were definitely Atobe's words.

"Mizuki!"

Mizuki looked up, for a moment scared by the tone of Yuuta's voice.

"Did Atobe say where he was going when he left?"

Mizuki sighed. "No… I don't…"

He paused; uncertain. It wasn't that he didn't have a conscience. He just really didn't want Yuuta to spend any more time with Atobe. He didn't like Atobe. He didn't like the way he monopolised Yuuta's time, or even his thoughts and emotions… And yet, he could understand it perfectly.

"Mizuki?" Yuuta asked again, and Mizuki sighed as he looked at him.

"He mentioned… going to the library," he finally said, biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything else.

"Thank you Mizuki," was all he heard, before Yuuta rushed out of the lobby and was gone.

(S)

Yuuta slammed the door of the taxi shut and started running.

Oh, he couldn't believe it. What was he thinking? It was peak hour and he still had another three blocks to run! He'd given up on the taxi because the roads were even worse than the footpaths, but what was he doing?

If Atobe could see him right now, he'd probably laugh.

He must look like an idiot, running along here, running as fast as he could, nearly banging into people and only just catching the pedestrian lights before they turned red.

He was sweating now; his body flushed hot but his skin cold as the evening wind hit him head-on. His tie kept blowing over his shoulder and he gave up on pulling it back down as he sprinted the last block; legs working faster and faster as his heart thumped quicker and quicker in his chest.

Feet pounding, pounding on the cement, he saw the library building just ahead. It was so close, he was nearly there.

It felt like it took him a long time to run up the library steps.

Too long.

And when he finally pushed open the tall doors at the entrance to the library and stood there, completely breathless, falling over his own feet…

There was complete and utter silence.

Only one of the librarians looked up at him, frowning at the amount of noise a single person could make. Yuuta ignored her and simply walked down towards the last of the aisles to the English fiction section.

He hoped Atobe was there, because if he wasn't, Yuuta didn't think he'd have the courage to do this all over again.

Grasping Atobe's book in his hands – he hadn't let it go since Mizuki had pushed it at him – he turned the last corner and stared down the aisle.

.tbc.


	21. Chapter 20

Notes: This is the final chapter of 'Satisfaction'! Thank you for reading all the way and thank you to people who have been kind enough to leave feedback and favourite the story. :D I love AtoYuu to bits so thanks for giving Atobe and Yuuta a chance, despite the fact that they're like crack on legs XDD;

The sequel to this story is called **About Us** and I'll start posting it here some time in the next few days XD It follows on straight afterwards this story, so it's almost really just a change of name but a continuation of the same events, except with more meddling from Gakuto and Oshitari and a little more exploration. :D;

Reviews: Would be lovely, thank you. :D

**Satisfaction**

Chapter 20

By Miki

"Mizuki?"

The boy looked up from his paper to see Hanashima, head slightly tilted in curiosity.

"Oh, you're back," he stated blandly, ignoring the look of confusion on Hanashima's face.

"Thank you for watching the desk, Mizuki. Did anything happen?" was the brisk response, Hanashima never being a very curious person for long.

Mizuki fiddled with the pen in his hand, eyes watching the clock on the wall. "No, nothing much."

"Okay," Hanashima responded, though he was rather disinclined to believe Mizuki. There was something in the way the boy's shoulders slumped that suggested he was less than happy. "Well, do you want to go now? Or do you mind watching the desk for a few more minutes? I still have a few people to call."

Mizuki shrugged, pursing his lips and clicking the pen in and out, in and out. He really couldn't be bothered doing anything right now, so sitting at the desk really wasn't that much to ask of him. Besides, he was sure everyone else was doing something with someone else right now.

Yanagisawa and Kisarazu were up in their rooms and Akazawa was with Nomura and Kaneda, doing something…

Mizuki couldn't remember what Akazawa had said when he'd questioned him, but it was something vaguely related to Nomura's glasses. Why it took three people to fix a pair of glasses – provided that was what they were doing – was beyond Mizuki, even when one accounted for the obvious lack of intelligence between the three of them.

Anyway, he didn't think Akazawa had the creativity to think up fibs, so he was resolved to sitting at the desk while everyone else occupied themselves.

Stabbing his pen into the pad of paper in front of him, he cursed Atobe and wished all his hair would fall out. It would serve him right to look like a bald-headed monkey after all.

(S)

Mizuki was still trying to think up ways to curse Atobe when, a few minutes later, the lobby doors opened again.

If he'd been expecting Yuuta – which actually, he wasn't – then he'd have been disappointed. Certainly, it was a Fuji who waltzed in, but it wasn't the right Fuji. Had the white nurse's uniform and high heels not given it away, the smile most definitely did.

"Mizuki," Fuji smiled, not at all taken by surprise by the unexpected face at the counter.

"Fuji," Mizuki returned; a slightly bitter look on his face as his mouth seemed to automatically recall the taste of salt in his tea.

"I wonder, is my dear brother in?" Fuji purred, and Mizuki smiled back.

"No."

If he wasn't going to have Yuuta for the evening, then neither was Fuji and his… abominable whatever-it-was that he was wearing.

"No?" Fuji repeated, the answer apparently catching him off-guard since he opened his eyes and scrutinised Mizuki.

The action made the other boy feel distinctly uncomfortable as his body remembered the number of times it had preceded what turned out to be… rather unpleasant events.

"No, I do believe he's with Atobe," Mizuki spat out, disgusted.

Fuji seemed to consider his answer for a moment, and then hopped up rather nimbly to sit on the counter.

"W-what are you doing?" Mizuki demanded quickly, his temper overcoming his sense of self-preservation for the moment.

"Waiting for Yuuta, of course," Fuji replied, looking down at Mizuki now and continuing to smile.

His wicked blue eyes stayed open as he peered at Mizuki. "I don't suppose you want to play a game while we wait, do you?"

Mizuki didn't want to. But whether or not anyone had wanted or even asked for his attentions had never stopped Fuji from bestowing them. It was rather a waste to have dressed up for nothing, he thought, and playing with Mizuki was always amusing enough in its own right. Besides, Mizuki apparently shared more in common with Yuuta than he'd previously thought…

One would have to teach him that trying to look up skirts was most ungentlemanly behaviour.

(S)

Atobe fidgeted restlessly; hand running across the spines of the books on the shelves in front of him. There was nothing he wanted to read, nothing he wanted to look up, nothing he wanted to borrow…

He hadn't really wanted to come to the library; it was more that he just didn't want to go home right now. There probably wouldn't be anyone at home besides the servants, and one could hardly converse with most of them on an intellectual level.

He'd thought about asking Kabaji over, but then… By the time he'd really thought about it, he was already halfway here and it had seemed stupid to change his mind since either way, he'd still be wasting his time.

Still, there were only limited ways to pass the time in a library, and Atobe found himself again running his fingers across the spines of the books as he read their titles. Were the books here always so boring? Somehow, there just wasn't anything on the shelf that he wanted to read at all. Everything was either the wrong genre, wrong author or he'd read it before.

Still, he stopped as his fingers reached the 'M' section and he recognised some of the titles there.

Mann, McEwan and Miller… Miller, he'd recommended to Yuuta, but he'd never actually asked if Yuuta had liked it or not.

Atobe frowned, putting his fingers to his forehead in thought. Why couldn't he stop thinking about Yuuta? It was almost like his brain was hardwired. He couldn't stop checking his phone, checking his watch, checking the time; wondering if Yuuta was back at the dormitory yet, and if he'd seen the book he'd left there, and what his face looked like…

Atobe couldn't help but wonder what sort of expression he'd have… Whether he'd look surprised, or annoyed, or maybe he'd just scowl and shove his hands in his pockets and walk off…

His chest felt tight again thinking about it, and he loosened his tie a little – something that was becoming more of a habit lately. He could swear if he didn't hurry up and do something about it, he was going to have a heart attack before he was twenty.

Everything felt hot and tight and horrible.

He was sure he looked bad too.

No doubt about it, anyone who saw him would probably wonder what on earth he'd been doing. Perhaps he should find the bathroom and do something about his hair… It must look terrible by now, and he hadn't even bothered to moisturise his hands after practise, and oh, where was a comb when you needed one?

As he turned, there was a distinct thump at the end of the aisle and he blinked; eyes focusing quickly on the boy standing and staring back at him.

And then his mouth moved instinctively of its own accord.

"Yuuta."

Almost like an echo, he heard his own name on the other boy's lips…

Quieter and less certain, but it was there, and he heard it.

"I…" He began quickly, hurrying to speak before Yuuta. "I… How did you know I was here?"

Yuuta scowled a little, looking away. "Mizuki told me," he muttered, and Atobe realised his face was quickly turning pink.

"Ah…" he said, willing his heart to stop thumping so hard in his chest.

Mizuki…

Changing the topic quickly, he began nervously. "About the message…"

"I got it," Yuuta interrupted quickly.

"Oh."

Atobe watched Yuuta for a moment, desperately wondering what he was thinking right now. He would give almost anything just to be able to know if Yuuta was even thinking about him…

But then, they were here, and they were talking, and wouldn't that mean Yuuta had to be thinking about him? And he'd gotten here so quickly as well.

Suddenly, taking in Yuuta's dishevelled appearance, Atobe wondered if he'd run. Was that possible? The thought that maybe Yuuta had chased after him gave him the tiniest amount of hope, that maybe… Maybe it wasn't just him?

He knew from the way Yuuta's lips were moving, that he really wanted to say something, but he wasn't ready to hear Yuuta tell him 'no' just yet.

He really had to tell him first; just in case… there was a sliver of a chance he could change the other boy's mind.

"Yuuta…" he began tentatively, taking a step closer, "I… You know, I haven't seen you for a while. I was starting to wonder how you were."

Yuuta opened his mouth to reply but Atobe cut him off quickly again, realising his mistake. "Of course… I imagine you've been really busy, but I just thought… Well, the thing is that…" He licked his lips, looking away from Yuuta as he pushed a hand into his pocket. The other tightened around the book he held, his sweaty fingers pressing into the paperback and slipping against its shiny surface.

"Um… I… that is…" he struggled, shutting his eyes and hurriedly swallowing.

Since when was talking to someone so incredibly hard? He felt like one of those stupid idiots who got up on stage to speak; words in his mind – practised until they became automatic – but dying on his lips when suddenly faced with an audience.

Atobe Keigo didn't hesitate like this. It wasn't like him. It wasn't him at all.

There was utter silence around them, and for a moment, he had a sickening feeling in the bottom of his stomach that maybe Yuuta had just disappeared.

"I'm sorry for making things weird," he finally blurted out, looking across again at Yuuta.

He almost felt relieved the boy was still standing there. And then…

"If it's okay with you, could we go back to… doing things like before?"

Oh, _shit_.

The words were out of his mouth before he'd realised it. Like an automatic defence mechanism. Exactly the words he hadn't wanted to say. Exactly what he didn't want to happen.

What was _wrong_ with him? He sounded like an idiot!

"Actually…"

Yuuta's voice was almost inaudible. He cleared his throat awkwardly, taking a few steps closer to Atobe, making the boy want to step back just to clear the space between them again.

He didn't want things to be ambiguous between them. Maybe if things were going to be like this… Maybe he should… draw a line somewhere… Where was the line in the beginning anyway? When had they both stepped over it?

Or had they both? Maybe it was just him…

"Actually," Yuuta spoke again, and Atobe would have jumped out of his skin, suddenly realising Yuuta was right in front of him, except that he was Atobe Keigo and he'd had more than enough practise pretending to ignore everyone and everything around him.

Except… Somewhere along the way, his plan had become irrelevant…

"I didn't, you know… I didn't mind it when you did that."

And somehow Yuuta had become someone he couldn't ignore. And –

"Huh?"

Atobe blinked.

He stared at Yuuta's face.

He was about the colour of a tomato – ears included.

"I said," Yuuta repeated, voice becoming a little more assertive and sounding a little grouchy, "I said that… that I… I didn't _hate_ it when you did… _that_."

"_That_…" Atobe repeated, hardly willing to believe Yuuta was thinking about the same thing he thought he might possibly be thinking about.

"How many times do you want me to say it?" Yuuta snapped, the scowl returning to his face as he glared defiantly at Atobe.

"Oh," Atobe said, staring back at Yuuta.

He wondered why he hadn't ever noticed before… that when Yuuta scowled, his eyes weren't actually angry at all. His face was scowling, but his eyes were just those of a teenage boy – just like he was – just a little bit… scared… hesitant…

They stood awkwardly; each unsure of the other.

"Then –"

"I –"

Atobe didn't think it was possible for any more blood to rush to his head. His heart was hammering in his chest like he was running a marathon and stumbling for the finish line and he was almost there… Like he was playing a six-setter and struggling to raise his arms and throw his weight behind the ball. Like he nearly had what he wanted but suddenly he was afraid he might not be able to reach it.

Oh.

Another minute of this and he was going to go into cardiac arrest.

"Can I –" he questioned tentatively, watching as Yuuta flinched a little.

For a moment, that sinking feeling was back in his stomach again, a twinge of pain running through his chest to his fingertips. And then Yuuta mumbled out "yeah," and Atobe nervously shuffled his feet and closed the gap between their bodies.

Yuuta's chest felt hot against his. His shirt felt damp where Atobe pressed a hand. He could feel the firmness of Yuuta's body. He could see the colour of Yuuta's eyelashes against his skin as he closed his eyes. And he felt the heat of Yuuta's lips as he gently pressed his own to them.

The rush of adrenaline and the cold sweat of his run against Yuuta's skin made him shiver, and Atobe tightened his hand against the boy's body, almost afraid to shut his eyes just in case he missed anything.

Yuuta opened his eyes as Atobe pulled back, and Atobe recognised the hesitant look on Yuuta's face; questioning, curious, and just a little bit worried. He kissed him then, again; lips just a little bit firmer than before, and just a little less nervously.

Awkwardly, uncertainly, they fumbled a little as Atobe tried to tilt his head and their noses bumped. The motion broke their kiss as Yuuta suddenly pulled away and Atobe realised the boy was laughing.

"What?" he demanded quickly, almost surprising himself with the speed at which his lips moved.

Yuuta shook his head quickly; cheeks and ears still a bright red as he grinned.

Maybe it was the tension of the moment suddenly ebbing away; dissipating as they both realised what they'd just done, or maybe it was because suddenly Atobe's chest was filled with a different kind of feeling…

But then before they knew it, Yuuta was laughing again, and Atobe couldn't help but smile back. _Really_ smile.

He still wasn't sure where this was going, and he knew Yuuta wasn't sure either. But now they were in it together. And the feeling in his chest – it wasn't tightness or pain, or anxiety or stress or anger or even fear…

This swelling feeling… like suddenly he was breathing properly, like his lungs might burst they were so full, like he was drowning in air… He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

It wasn't the pride he felt when people called his name. It wasn't the superiority he felt when he walked onto the tennis court. It wasn't even the sense of satisfaction he felt when he played a game and won.

Standing in the library, watching Yuuta laughing for no reason at all… Seeing the pink of his cheeks and the write, bright light reflecting on his clear, grey eyes… Those eyes which were watching him…

Smiling at him…

The feeling wasn't anything to which he'd become accustomed at all; it was something else entirely.

For the first time in a long, long time, Atobe realised it wasn't just satisfaction.

It was more than that.

It was happiness.

.fin.


End file.
